Breathe In The Dark
by Dark Closure
Summary: A person who is always sunshine and smiles have their dark secrets as well.  But what if those dark secrets become dangerous when the four turtles get locked into an unfamiliar house? RaphMike
1. Chapter 1

A is for Amber who drown in a pool.

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In books it always starts with "a dark and stormy night", in reality there was no such thing when it comes to events that change one's life. The closest thing that Michelangelo told he got to "a dark and stormy night" was on late night movies. He liked watching the old horror movies, the black and white screen speckled with lines on the aging film. When asked why he would go on about something as simple as how "Nothing can beat a classic," or "they just don't make them like they used to." What he didn't tell was that there was a strange attraction, something that pulled his attention to it no matter what he was doing. It was fascinating. If flesh eating zombies that could infect others came around; how would anything survive? If an alien space craft had landed and some kind of morphing killer was released then why would it try so hard to kill? Did it think like human murders or was it just a way of life for it? Mad scientists, what drove them to do the things they did? So many questions always swimming in his head whenever he saw anything like that. He knew if he told the truth about his thoughts then he would get teased, so, in order preserve his own self-esteem he made things up.

Made things up...

He rubbed at his arm, a red welt growing from the punch he got from an angry Raphael. He made up a lot. He made up his laugh, made up his jokes and his smile. He pretended to like being picked on, pretended he liked attention. He pretended that he...

"You okay Mike?" Donnie clasped his hand over a lean shoulder.

A fight, he had been fighting a lot with Raph these days. He fought because his smile would slip, his frustrations would pour out, and some times he would do things he didn't mean to. Like today; he didn't mean to yell at Raph. He didn't mean to shout and scream and tell him he was impossible to deal with. He didn't mean it. Frustration was just growing hourly in his gut, twisting like a bed of snakes in a pot. If he could just dream, just close his eyes and relax, but he wasn't as lucky as most would call him. Out of all of the family, he was the one who had nightmares frequently. Some times he would hide from the shadows that laughed, drafts out of no where that danced. He would seek refuge in someone's room, it all stopped bothering him when he was not the only one present.

All of that wasn't what kept him awake, lying still as death under his covers. It was the singing that made him do that, some times the singing would come when he wasn't alone. It was coming more often now and he hated hearing it. He wanted to scream, drown the sound out. And now he was finding that he had to, that was why he picked a fight, why he was shouting as loudly as possible, getting Raphael to yell as loudly as he could as well. He didn't want to hear it any more. No more of those lyrics. No more...

"Raph! Come back here! Raphael!" Leo was following their brother who had been pulled to the side to get a thorough lecture for throwing a punch so hard that it caused the baby of the family to fall back. That level of violence was not tolerable in that household.

"It's okay Leo," Mikey forced a smile on his face. "I was asking for it."

"But-"

The singing again. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly to the point they hurt.

"It's okay!!!" he was shouting, quickly walking away from the hand that was on his shoulder, walking away from the startled looks as he headed out of the lair out into the sewers that Raphael had disappeared into.

Quick, quickly now, if he slowed down then they would catch up. He had to run, get away from them, from the things that la'ed and da'ed in his ears. Turning a corner, several tunnels away from home he turned around, slowing to a stop. His breathing was erratic as he tried to calm himself. "I've told you to leave me the shell alone!!" a shout to a shadow that giggled as it moved closer.

Backing up a step he felt something press against his shell, something soft. He gave a scream, darting forward, hands catching him. With out looking he lashed out, someone was talking, yelling as he screamed for help. His wrists were caught in a tight grip, he tried to pry free, tears running down his cheeks as the singing was echoing around him. A sharp pain to his cheek, the singing stopped as he slowly blinked, pleas dying on his tongue.

Raphael stood there, one hand still around a wrist, his other held still in mid-air after giving his little brother a slap. Dark eyes widen in surprise, brows together in worry as the two waited for something to happen. Neither moved, the only sound besides the rushing water of the sewer was Michelangelo's labored breathing. Raph had been stomping around, angry beyond belief. He had expected to get into an argument with Leo, it happened all the time, but with Mikey? To be told that he was impossible that he was basically useless, cold, and cruel; it hurt. It hurt a lot. The emerald turtle had thrown the punch trying to transfer some of that pain from his chest, it didn't help and he wasn't in the mood to hear Leo tell him about how wrong he was. He stormed out, he was here trying to think of what he possible could have done to cause his baby brother to hate him, then he heard running steps splashing in the sewer water. He herd the shout. All he wanted to do was calm the orange clad turtle down, he had been about to speak when Mikey backed up into him. To say it startled him was a lie, it scared him to see the bright piece of sunshine like that. That was why he reached out, why his palm snapped over sensitive skin bringing sense back to the one who was trying so hard to free himself.

They both waited for the other to make a move.

"S-sorry," Raph lowered his hand, let go of the wrist he was holding so tightly.

A hiccup.

"Sorry for... you know hittin' ya and slappin' ya."

A sniffle.

"Mike, I didn't hit you that hard. Did I?"

Another hiccup.

Red rubbed at the small welt on the cheek he had just assaulted, "M-maybe we should go back and get you some ice."

Michelangelo stepped forward, face tucking under chin as he wrapped arms around his brother. Tears hot as they spilled down, the singing was finally gone, the laughs leaving him alone. It was such a relief. Hesitant arms wrapped around him, hand pressing to the back of his head.

"C-can I sleep in your room tonight?"

It was almost like hearing a mouse speaking; voice so tiny and high in pitch. "I thought you were angry with me."

A shake of the head causing a beak to rub against his neck.

"Well... if you can stand me long enough then I guess it's okay."

Michelangelo whimpered wanting to say he was sorry, that he didn't mean what he said but he didn't trust himself at the moment. He already got several good scares that day and now he was finally getting a break, even if it was short he didn't want to ruin it by the slim chance he would break down. Instead of concentrating on those thoughts, he pushed them to the side in favor to looking forward to the possibility of having a night with out being kept awake by a chours of gremlin like song.

To Be Continued...


	2. Chapter 2

B is for Billy who was eaten by ghouls.

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"Help me."

Arms were holding him on either side, the latex of hospital gloves gripping hard -grabbing at his skin.

"Help me."

Heels dug into the ground, small bits of rock cutting into him as he tired to fight the ones holding him; the ones pulling hard and taking him down the path of trimed of hedges. The warmth from their bodies bit into his cold flesh, panicked breath coming out in hot puffs.

"I don't want to go there."

Pulling, jerking, yanking, he tried working his way out of the grips, threw back his head as he screamed at the top of his lungs. Tears stung his eyes as he prayed that someone would hear him over the thundering storm that grieved for him over head. The clouds cried down, slicking the earth making the captors' movements all the harder. One slipped, he shoved his weight against the one of the men in white coats. It threw all of them off balance; collapsing three bodies to the ground. He scrambled, knees knocking against clumps of grass and rock, fingers catching on thin exposed roots from the mud that he clawed at trying to get away. Grabbing, clambering, striving as hard as he could he pulled himself into a momentum even though his legs and palms were being bit into due to the sharp rocks. Fingers gripped his ankles, pulling hard. Clawing at clumps of dirt, he tried to get a hold that was good enough for him to pull himself free on. Something snapped in his hand, something twined in the roots.

"Help me!"

Red fingernail polish was chipped and muddy, fingers curled up as if reaching from the earth trying to be freed. Another scream ripped from his throat -the small appendage tumbling from his palm as he was ripped into the darkness that grumbled out in a voice that sounded like someone yelling through a rain-gutter packed with rotted leafs;

"I don't want to die."

Michelangelo woke with a start, his body covered with a gleam of sweat. The force of him sitting up causing the hammock to rock roughly nearly tipping him over. His hand instinctively padded down next to him, in hopes to find his brother only to find cold canvas and lonely covers. Not wanting to be alone, the sea-green turtle slipped out from the blankets and onto the floor.

He rubbed at his face trying to keep away. Taking the stairs, he held onto the railing making sure he did not fall as he swayed on his feet. The singing had not come back that night, but now he had the noise of the darkness whispering in that horrible voice. It was most likely the reminisce of the dream. If he could get something calming to eat or drink then everything would smooth out. Yes... something like tea.

Passing by the lower level bathroom he heard the sound of the shower, most likely where Raph was at the moment. He nodded to himself more for the benefit of confirming the fact he saw the light under the door and could hear the running water, than for anything else. Making his way to the kitchen, he found the old beat up tea kettle that had some how collected a lot of fond memories over the years of their owning it. With shaky hands he filled it full of water and set it on the burner. The whole time the water was set to heat, he leaned against the counter, eyes down to the floor- arms folded, ankles crossed. He refused to look at the darkness that was just beyond the light of the kitchen. He didn't want to risk the possibility of seeing gloved hands reaching for him. He didn't want to see, he didn't want to hear, nor feel.

A sniffle pulled at his beak as he rubbed at his arm absently trying to get rid of the chill that was running up and down his spine.

The kettle whistled, pulling him out of his thoughts with a jump. With a small laugh towards himself for being so silly, he tried to act normal. Tried to steady his hands when he was making his tea, tried to find an apatite by looking in the fridge. Tried... he tried so hard only to sit down at the kitchen table and look into the cup of tea he had. He took a sip every once in a while, burning his lip or the rough of his mouth from the bitter liquid not meaning to partake while it was so hot. But he would forget about the heat, forget about the cup, forget about the table and the room all together. He could still feel the rain, could still feel the bite of rocks on his feet, the feel of his breath turning cold on his lips. He would take a drink from the tea in a way to remind himself that he was indeed home, that there was nobody around with latex gloves or five fingered grips that felt like they were about to rip out muscle and bone. He tried to remind himself that he was not about to disappear into the darkness that was at the end of the hedge maze.

"Mikey?"

He gave a startled cry, coming out more of a mixture like a gagging choke. His hand knocked over the tea cup, liquid spilling all over his wrist and hand.

"Mike! Geez," Raphael pulled him out of his seat by the elbow, ushering him over to the sink.

Carefully, he pulled the leather off of the wrist that was swelling with red burns from the liquid that seeped underneath. Turning on the faucet, he shoved Mikey's hand under the water, "Just keep it there okay?" He didn't bother to look at his brother, just quickly turned to the refrigerator and pulled open the freezer. Grabbing a plastic bag that was discarded onto the near-by counter, he filled it full of ice. Returning to the youngest's side, he pulled Mikey's hand out of the steady stream, frowning deeply; the top few layers of skin was starting to peel off. "Ah, man, that doesn't look good bro," he spoke truthfully carefully placing the ice pack down. "I'm gonna go get Donnie. Stay put."

Red turned to leave, hand being caught in Michelangelo's healthy palm. The way the hold quivered froze him in his tracks. He turned, hand in hand, finding Michelangelo was not looking at him, his face was turned away, the sound of silent sniffles filled the air.

"Do ya want me to bring you some pain pills?"

A shake of the head.

"I'm gotta get Donnie, bro or-"

It was quiet, voice sounding like a frightened child that was locked in the closet, "Don't leave me alone."

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Casey looked from one turtle to the other. He wasn't sure what to make of this; Michelangelo would have some sort of anxiety attack if Raphael even mentioned leaving the room. Leonardo was pacing like a worried mother hen, and Donatello had a sullen expression on his face as he changed the bandages on his baby brother's second degree burn that wrapped around thumb, wrist and part of the palm. One thought came to him of asking how hot that tea really was, but he knew better than to ask something stupid when his best buddies looked like they were about to all just loose it.

"So... what's the matter?"

Everyone glared at him, except Mikey who was on the couch and intent on holding onto Raph's arm -with his good hand- while curled up against him like he was a giant teddy bear where he could gather all his strength from. Casey didn't think his question was that stupid, it was honest and well... everyone was acting funny.

"Casey I don't think-" Don started.

"Stress," everyone looked to the red clad turtle who's gaze softened to his usual scowl, not even bothering to look down at the one holding onto him who cared to look up.

"Stress?"

"The Foot, Alien Invasions, Time and Intergalactic travel, training every day for most of the day, it takes its toll after a while."

Donatello smiled softly to himself as he finished Mikey's bandage. He was glad that talking to the family about what they dubbed "useless things" actually was absorbed. "Raph's right," he said softly getting up from his kneeling position, taking a seat on Mikey's other side. "It's causing some of us to become jumpy, careless, and start lashing out at each other."

The tapping of an aged walking stick came into the room, the father of the four boys nodded his head, ears twitching as he picked up miscellaneous sounds that came with living in tunnels. "I am glad that you all see why you have had difficulty with one another," the old rat stroked at his beard as he spoke. "I believe that it would be wise for our family to take some time to relax and enjoy one another's company."

"What? Like a family outing?" Raph's gruff voice rumbled in Michelangelo's ear as the youngest attempted to squeeze up against him even more.

"It would be a relief and give time for Mikey to heal," Leonardo offered helpfully finally ceasing his pacing. He reached down and patted the boy on the head not expecting the small jump and the near climbing onto Raphael's lap that the gesture made.

Red grunted nearly being squished.

"Mikey..." Donnie reached over and gently took his brother by the elbow, a light touch that could easily be shrugged off. The skin under his fingers tightened, before relaxing. "Come on, get off of Raphie."

"Sorry, I didn't... Just, sorry Leo," Mikey slid off of the brother he was sitting on, eyes fixated on the floor.

"Whoa, you are **really** tense," Casey blinked his blue eyes amazed to have seen something like that happen. Usually the orange loving turtle would scream some goofy girly scream before comedic-ly jumping onto someone. This was far beyond the usual though, it was like watching something that shouldn't have ever been thought like pink baseball caps in men's sizes.

"Casey, do you think we can spend some time up on your Grandmother's farm?" Leo, softly rested a hand on Michelangelo's shoulder. Pleased there was no negative reaction this time.

"Sorry, Ma's up there for two weeks."

"I see," dark eyes fell to the one that was surrounded by brothers. This was bothering him much more than he showed. He didn't like hearing the goof ball, the carefree spirit of the family yelling and creating arguments as seen in the last few days. He didn't enjoy waking up in the middle of the night with a sick feeling in his mind that something was wrong, getting up only to find Donatello treating a second degree burn as their baby brother tried not to cry; telling of a horrible nightmare that made him jumpy. And what set him on edge was when Raphael had approached him in the corner of the room, not speaking louder than a whisper so that the others would not hear. He told him of the dream, in much more detail than someone who had just heard it should have. When he asked how he knew all of that, he looked deeply into his sibling's eyes only to confirm that sick feeling that started to slip down into his heart and stomach. Raphael had the same nightmare.

"But you know, three miles down the road; Ma' and me bought a new place, it was really cheep. And I was gonna surprise April and you guys with it. You wouldn't have to worry about people showing up out of no where with out announcement," Casey grinned seeing the brightening eyes at the prospect of finally getting some R'n'R.

"What would prevent your mother from showing up?" Donnie asked massaging around Mikey's wrist just beyond the burn trying to relieve some of the pain.

"Uh... well, she uh... kind of thinks that it's gonna be a wedding gift to April. I didn't tell her about you guys because- well you know."

Splinter smiled kindly, "We appreciate your offer and will take you up on it."

To Be Continued...


	3. Chapter 3

C is for Curt with disease in the brain.

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"This the place?" Donatello leaned over the steering wheel of the Battle Shell looking up at the shadow that towered over the vehicle.

"It's the address that Casey wrote down for us," Leo's eyes were glued to the white mail box as if the numbers of the street address could possibly be washed away by the light rain.

"Well... I guess if the keys for the house don't work then we know we got the wrong place."

Shifting into gear, the smartest of the family gently accelerated not wanting to disturb the ones who were sleeping in the back. Even though it was only a three hour drive, Splinter decided to meditate only to fall into a sound slumber from the lulling sound of rain on the metal roof of the van. Mikey had began to nod off leaning against Raphael until he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer the other brother -having less sleep- soon followed. Even if it was only for a few more minutes the olive turtle wanted them to be able to rest.

When the vehicle pulled to its second stop in that day, Splinter opened his tired eyes. A storm must have been building up some where near, he never got that tired with out the low pressure front of an incoming storm. Looking out the side window he had his head resting upon, he saw the faint line of black clouds. As usual, it looked like a nasty one.

His black eyes turned from the glass to his sons that were still slumbering. There was something... odd about it. They seemed to look older, faces even tired in sleep. It was barely noticeable in Raphael, but Michelangelo it was prominent. There was something plaguing his mind, something taking away the fun-loving innocence that he carried with him even to his dreams. He felt his lips pull into a deep frown. It would seem he needed to pry some secrets out if this continued, but as it stood he would let them sleep.

"Ma-" Leo was turned to him from the front seat, cut off from a gray finger placed over fur covered lips as his father shooshed him. He gave a nod, understanding full well. Giving Donatello a small hand gesture to remain quiet, all three shuffled out of the van.

The ground was cold under their feet, leafs starting to change color; refusing to leave their perch on strong branches. The paint on the large house was fresh from only two months prior -a shade of light cream with sage green trim. It was pleasing to the eyes, the porch looking new compared to the Jones farm house. As Donatello and Splinter huddled around the door, bringing out keys to unlock and allow entry, Leonardo stood a meter away from the front steps. Tawny eyes took in the structure -it was sound-, the windows were well taken care of, drapes thin to the point it was almost pointless to have them up. He could tell there were several rooms upstairs, and a few down on the first floor. But there was something off, something that nagged and tugged at the back of his mind. It was like a prickle to the back of his neck, almost like when Klunk flexed his claws when he was happy and Mikey forgot to trim those talons that Donatello called harmless cat paws. It was hard enough to slightly hurt, yet light enough to ignore.

A curtain fluttered, a hand slapped against to window he had been intently staring at. With a startled jump he blinked, hand gone, curtain unmoving. Blue tails from his bandana swayed as he shook his head, he looked back, squinting. Nothing, absolutely nothing. "I must be more tired than I originally thought," he mumbled to himself.

Hearing his named called by his brother he moved forward taking the three steps easily with one stride. He followed sibling and father into the furnished home; two large couches in an 'L' shape around an oval coffee table, a decent sized tv. The front room even had a piano, as for the kitchen there were all sorts of choppers, mixers, cutters, microwaves, toasters, toaster ovens, even one oven out front and in the pantry two more. There was enough canned goods to feed an army, enough flour, sugar, shorting, and oil to make nearly everything in three cook books in one night. There was a note in the fridge from Casey mentioning how he would come by the next day to drop off perishables. The next thing they looked at where the two grand bedrooms down stairs, both with their own adjoined bathrooms that was big enough to use as their dojo alone. The beds were four-poster, complete with canopy with lush pillows and covers. Leo designated one to be Splinter's temporary room, the other he had a feeling should go to Mikey. It looked like he wasn't going to detach himself from Raphael's side any time soon.

Next was the upper level. Climbing up the stairs he felt... watched. There were display cases built into the walls, filled with porcelain dolls from all around the world. Most had a European feel to them, a few oriental. One in particular had bright blue eyes, blonde hair curled in large ringlets, a right red hat with feathers pinned down that matched its overly gaudy dress. He had a hard time taking his eyes off of that one, the one that seemed to be looking back. A thought occurred in the back of his mind, a thought that he found a somewhat disturbing, "It's like that one poem verse 'No one who breathed, nor laughed, nor ate, nor said I love, nor said I hate'." Why that came up, he did not know, but either way he didn't like it.

The doll blinked.

"Did you see that?"

"See what?" Donatello looked up from his spot on the stairs, he was only two steps below his brother.

"That. The blink. That doll blinked," he pointed at the one with the red dress.

Purple frowned, squinting into the glass case. There was a small golden handle attacked, which he grabbed and gently pulled that section of the case open. Reaching back the grabbed a hold of the doll. Leo felt a sickening twist in his stomach. He wanted to yell at Donnie for doing something so rash, for grabbing the thing that did what it had just done. But his voice choked in his throat, and soon as he found his voice it was gone the very moment his brother spoke up. Brown eyes examining the object in hand, not looking up;

"Leo, you're seeing things. This thing's eyes are painted on, there's no way it could blink."

To Be Continued...


	4. Chapter 4

D is for Daniel derail on a train.

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Cold, Michelangelo slowly opened his eyes to his breath puffing out in small white clouds. He snuggled closer to the warm body next to him, pulling his blanket tighter around his shoulders trying to ward off the chill that was threatening to bite through the material. It had been two full days since they had arrived and so far everything was nice and quiet. He was told by Master Splinter that he was forbidden to use his right hand until it was fully healed, he got to meditate with the rest of the group and do leg exercises but soon as it came to weapons practice he had to sit out. He was glad that training was cut down to only two hours a day while they were on "vacation" or he would have gone stir-crazy from just watching his brothers.

Speaking of brothers- the sea-green turtle looked up, chin resting on strong plastron as he watched Raphael sleep. Typically the red loving turtle snored a lot, he was loud when it came to practically everything he did, but last night Mikey had asked him not to snore as loudly, and so far it was working. Sure he was still doing it, but it was softer, almost reverent compared to his old house shaking one. To be honest, he liked this type of sound, it reminded him of despite how rough and tumble Raphael was, he was still courteous to other people.

He moved his good hand up, finger wiggling over his brother's nostrils on his smooth beak, tickling him slightly. His hand was swatted away while the emerald turtle grumbled and started to roll over. Michelangelo smiled to himself, snuggling up against Raphael's shell happy with the new position. Donatello once said that turtles were cold blooded, and he would agree with his braniac sibling for a long time until a single thought raced through his mind. A thought that was happening right at that moment as he moved just slightly so he could run his hand down the raised pattern of carapace and scutes. "If we're cold blooded," he whispered to himself just wanting some noise besides sounds of slumber. "then shouldn't Raph's shell be cold?" Closing his eyes, he moved his hand to Raphael's side feeling the difference between the heat of skin compared to the heat of shell. He was so absorbed in the task of finding out the difference in temperatures of different body parts that he did not hear the snoring cease.

"Mikey?"

Michelangelo continued to touch, too deep in thought. That was until Raphael shifted and Mikey's hand slipped to where it shouldn't have. Both scrambled apart, falling off the bed and tumbling to the floor with twin thuds.

"I am SO sorry," Michelangelo scrambled up onto his feet and around the bed. "I didn't mean- I mean- if you hadn't moved then that never would have happened."

"So it's my fault you decided to grope me while I was sleepin'?!" Auburn eyes narrowed.

"No! I wasn't doing that, I was-"

"What?"

Orange swallowed hard, he was pretty sure he was going to get hit.

"You were goin' to do what, Mikey?"

"I-I was only trying to figure out if you were warm blooded or not."

A confused look, "Huh?"

"Donnie said turtles are cold blooded right? But what if in our mutation we turned warm blooded and that's why we don't get tired during the winter and why we don't need sun lamps and- I'll shut up now."

Raphael sighed, knuckle rubbing into eye trying to rub the last reminisce of sleep out of it. It was too early to get angry over something as stupid as warm blood versus cold blood. He would yell at Mikey about it later, right then he just wanted to sleep.

"Raph?"

"Just... just go back to bed Mikey," he pushed himself off of the floor and crawled back onto the bed. He found the blankets and waited for Michelangelo to join him before he pulled the blankets over both their shoulders.

It was quiet.

"No gropin' me while I'm asleep," Raphael suddenly said earning a snicker from the one who had his shell pressed up against his very own.

"Does that mean I can do it while you're awake?" Another small laugh.

The older of the two grabbed his pillow and flicked it back hitting Michelangelo with it before returning it to its rightful place under his head, "Go to sleep cheese ball."

"If I'm a cheese ball, then who will be my cracker? You can't have a good cheese ball with out a good cracker. Will you be my cracker?"

"Sleep- now-."

Telling someone to sleep was one thing, actually getting them to sleep was another. Michelangelo's brain was full of energy at that moment and he was having a hard time keeping his eyes closed. Instead he kept on looking at his hand, the one that had touched and explored the body of the turtle sharing the same bed. Raphael's shoulders were hard, even when the muscles where relaxed, his sides were not as dense, but what was the biggest contrast was that spot between the legs. It was soft, smooth, and very warm. If he hadn't known better then- no, he wouldn't think like that. He shouldn't and he couldn't. Raphael had been the most understanding out of all of his brothers. Sure Leo was a great older brother, he was a lot of fun, and Donnie understood a lot and would try to get people to talk more, but it was Raph he could relate to. They picked on each other, they liked to pair up when ever it came to goofing off, and he was always there to watch his back. Always there protecting, always the first one to his side when he was hurt. He was strong, forgiving, and- and- And he needed some fresh air.

Raph was already back to sleep when Michelangelo pushed off his covers, he made his way to the front room. Pacing around for about a half hour only caused his mind to keep on thinking about returning back to the blankets that was swimming in the scent of him and his brother. _Brother_... **Brother**... "Note to self, suddenly thinking your brother is hot for whatever reason is not sane," he thought to himself. Maybe some colder air would clear things up.

Opening up the front door, he padded out onto the moonlit porch, the lawn gleaming in the pale light giving the frost covered grass a fragile look. The youngest took in a deep full breath, going out where the frost melted under his feet. He didn't know where he was going, only took comfort that out here he wasn't thinking things that should not be in his head. Out here he was admiring how bright the moon and stars were; how everything seemed to be somewhat surreal from the color of night.

When he finally stopped to look around he felt a small twist in his stomach. He knew this place didn't he? Something was familiar. Turning around he found the house was a ways away, maybe a good mile. He hadn't been that lost in the moment had he? He didn't think he had been. There was a sudden sound, like the breaking of something wet. Looking around he saw nothing, only empty field, a forest lining the property perhaps a little less than a half mile away.

There it was again, that sound of juice and bone separating. Something was by the tree line, head bobbing as it ate. It was large, whatever it was.

It was time to turn and go back and leave whatever this was by itself to enjoy whatever dinner it had just managed to kill. Michelangelo felt sick to his stomach as the mashing sound of teeth through flesh seemed to echo. He kept a reasonable pace, if he just ran the there was a good chance that the animal would chase him.

That disgusting sound stopped.

He froze.

Slowly, very slowly, he glanced over his shoulder. The thing was watching him, the silhouette of darkness had no reflection of color in the eyes of the moonlight like a regular animal. But he could tell it was waiting for him to make a move, to allow it to give chase.

The warning signals in his brain were firing off, screaming at him to make a made dash for it. But he didn't move, if he didn't move then it would loose interest, it would go away. A lump formed in his throat as he heard large feet crunch down the frost covered ground. It was already close enough that he could hear it.

He squeezed his eyes shut as it came closer and closer. Heart beating as fast as a humming bird's when hot breath washed over his neck and shoulder. The thing was making no sound other than the odd limping pace as it circled around him. No sniffing, no snorting, growls, or anything, just the footsteps. Something wet and wrinkled pressed against his forearm and moved up to his elbow, a piece of whatever was up against him broke off, fumbling to the ground.

Then as suddenly as it had come, it had gone, hobbling away quickly. He didn't wait for the sounds to retreat completely, Michelangelo ran.

To Be Continued...


	5. Chapter 5

E is for Eric burried alive.

---------------------------

The door slammed shut, shaking fingers throwing locks into place as breathing rattled in lungs cold from the night air. Feet slapped against the carpet, fear still pumping in warm veins as a bedroom door was opened and closed, lock quickly set. Window found, fingers padding around for the lock, finding it and setting it firmly. Breathing was calming down as, Michelangelo slowly eased himself back a few steps, feeling back for the bed. His sight glued to the window that allowed the moonlight into the room. Once he found the covers he felt his legs finally give resulting in the bounce of the mattress as he sat down roughly. Whatever was out there, he did not want it to come inside. He didn't want to see its outline coming up to the window, he did not want to see its soulless face. He didn't want anything to do with it; the thing that had no eyes.

With a shuddering breath he lowered his face into his palms, adrenaline finally working out of his system. He was seeing things that's all, the moonlight and shadows play tricks on his eyes. The breathing and sounds; easy, he had watched a late night horror movie on AMC or was it TMC? Either way it was old, black and white, and left a lot for the imagination to run around with. He could have just imagined it... right? And that something wet -he ran his hand down his arm, he couldn't feel anything but a thick film of chilled sweat. Maybe he had imagined that too... or he was sweating so much that it was washed off? But what if all of it wasn't gone? What if he went into the bathroom right now and looked in the mirror to find some sort of red streak of blood like off of the movies?

Slowly, body tired from the adrenaline rush, he got up to his feet. Making his way to the bathroom.

---------------------

It was the sound of the shower that Raphael woke up to. Steam billowed out of the open door to the bathroom. He padded his hand to the side, Michelangelo was not there. Sitting up he felt something begin to harden in his chest. He didn't want to go in, he didn't want to investigate. Something told him that if he did then things would change, that he would see something that would alter his way of thinking forever. But one could never be sure.

Pushing the blankets to the side, he climbed out of bed.

"Mikey?" He asked as he approached the bathroom. He could hear a soft sound, a humming? No, it was too confused to be a melody, it was broken and scared. It was the sound of someone trying to hold in their fright. The emerald turtle found himself moving faster, his breath halting in his throat as he now ran, hands gripping the door frame to stop his momentum before he could over shoot the room. "Mike! You ok...ay?" His voice died away at the sight, his little brother looking so young and vulnerable kneeling on the tile of the shower stall, soap suds rinsing off as he rocked back and forth making that odd sound in the back of his throat.

"Michelangelo?" he stepped into the room.

The youngest moved his hands, bar of soap leaving a trail of suds as he tried to clean himself again. Why was he acting like this? Didn't he hear him?

"Mike," red spoke louder, now with in reach. He squatted down, reaching out he hesitantly placed a hand on his brother. He didn't know what to expect, maybe a jerk, maybe a scream, not being bowled over by a wet turtle. He didn't expect the body on top of him to shake and quiver as tears slid down cheeks onto his chest. He certainly didn't foresee himself holding onto his little brother on the floor and trying to be as comforting as possible.

How long it lasted, he did not know, all he cared about was to calm his brother down enough to know what had happened. He didn't pressure, he just cradled and held until tears subsided and the water was now cold. Eventually Michelangelo let go, sitting up on his legs, eyes feeling dry from all the tears.

"Feelin' better?" He didn't know why, he just reached forward and touched his brother on the face. A feather light touch that he pulled away from soon as he realized he was doing it.

"Yeah," Mikey sniffled, "Sorry for freaking out on ya, bro."

"If you're sorry then you can tell me what got you all worked up."

"Can I get the soap off of me first? It's dried and starting to itch."

Raphael rolled his eyes, "Cheese ball."

Orange flopped down on red, now relaxed and pushing bad memories to the side, "Cracker."

"Get off. Don't you have a shower to finish?"

"You're soapy too, might as well join me."

A distasteful look was all he got.

-------------

Leonardo was sitting at the table, eyes tried and strained from staying awake all night long. There was something weird about that house, his things were disappearing. First it was an elbow pad, now it was his mask. He now slept with his swords in his arms in paranoia that they too will disappear. It had now been four days, and he was noticing that Raphael and Michelangelo were getting along rather well. Perhaps more than they ever have in the past. Michelangelo had reverted back to not wanting Raphael to leave the room, but he was a lot relaxed about it. When previously the hot-tempered ninja had to stay with in sight, now he was only restricted to ear shot; meaning one, maybe two rooms away. He had also noticed that his usually contemptible sibling was more hesitant when it came to the youngest. He was softer in his playing and had trouble making full contact physically. Leo had noticed that there was something happening between them, something that was like a shared secret.

Secrets, he had a few of his own and was finding himself wishing he could confide in someone about them. If he told Master Splinter about it then he possibly could loose face, even be lectured about how silly he was being, or worse- told that he was loosing control and was just imagining things. But when he saw small shadows drop down from the ceiling and scuttle across the floor to under the bed he was sleeping in, he had to start questioning if he should tell anyone at all. Maybe he could tell Mikey? No, he already has enough going on for him. Raph? Raph was too busy keeping Mikey sane. Splinter was out of the question, then that would leave Donatello.

He sighed, slumping in his seat. Maybe he should just keep quiet about it all, he didn't want to bother Donnie with anything. He was busy with... okay so maybe he wasn't really busy with anything beyond "how does this thing work?" But still...

"Mornin'," Raph came into the room, rubbing at his eyes. "Where's your mask Leader?"

"Somewhere," he half shrugged. If he said he had misplaced it then he never would hear the end of it.

"Where's your growth?"

"Mike's in the bathroom."

"How's he doing?"

Red grabbed a bowl, a box of cereal, spoon, and the milk. He set it all down on the table, "He still hogs the covers like when we were kids. Kicks in his sleep, and pushes me off the bed, but that's Mikey for you."

Leo nodded, it sounded like he was doing okay.

"Say, Leo?"

"Hm?"

"Do you... uh, do you think you could switch places with me tonight?"

"Excuse me?"

To Be Continued...


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Okay everybody. Just so you know I will have to update a lot in just one day in order to finish this. As you all know the Chapter Titles deal with the Alphabet so if I want to finish this by Halloween then I'll have to double time it. That means I have absolutely **no** time for Beta. I'll try to catch mistakes when I come across them, but that's as much as I can promise. I'm sorry. Thank you for sticking with me and baring my stupid mistakes.

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F is for Frank who was stabbed through the eye.

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Some times things got out of hand. Some times things never pushed hard enough but right now, he didn't know if things were getting to be to much or not enough at all. He didn't know. It was confusing. He liked being able to be close to Michelangelo, he liked being able to share his bed with someone after so long. The last time he had someone sleep under the same covers as himself was five Christmases ago when they were ten years old and all four turtles huddled together for more warmth. He missed having that closeness. Now that it was back, he wasn't sure what to do with it.

He liked being the one that Michelangelo would run to. He didn't like what caused his brother to run to him, to dive under the covers night after night and refuse to surface. He felt over protective when he could feel the soft breath against his chest under the blankets. And that was why he asked Leonardo to switch with him that night. He needed to clear his head, to be able to think and not just about how he could possibly keep Mikey safe and sound. What if there were worse things out there? What if this was all in his head? What if... What if...

He didn't know, and right now he didn't really care as he drifted. He glanced at the clock, red numbers proudly showing that it was 2:29 am. Oh how he wished he could just sleep. Sleep and not wake up for a whole day. He was tired and it was all because he's trained his body to wake up soon as Michelangelo even dared to venture off of the mattress after finding him in the shower. He was never told what was wrong that one night. What had caused the orange clad turtle to become so frightened that night was still a mystery.

Raphael sighed, and mumbled out loud, "It's almost like he doesn't trust me or somethin'."

-------------------

Leonardo clutched onto Michelangelo, the covers over their heads as they curled into one another. There was something in the room with them, something that had come from the closet that had only been open a small crack. He had noticed it first, felt his body freeze as the object threw out something that looked like a rumpled sock. The sock like shape undulated, shifted and moved, a strange popping sound like dislocated joints snapped softly in the air. He had intended to check it out, to turn on the light and laugh at his mind playing tricks on him. That was until he went to swing his legs over the side of the mattress. His body shook from the cold that his feet had dipped into. It was almost like ice cold- pond water, only it was not water, only air. He didn't look down, he didn't have to in order to see the eyes looking up at him.

His throat felt dry, saliva feeling thick as he swallowed. Michelangelo, pulled him back in a flutter of blankets. They huddled together, this odd chill filling the room and stunning their senses. Despite their ninja training, no matter how many battles they had been in, they felt like small children; helpless. The soft popping sound was getting closer, the feel of eyes watching, it set a state of panic in their bellies. Which one dove under the covers first wasn't known, what was known was that they both were under the blankets, clinging onto each other hoping that no matter what the thick piece of fabric would serve as an impenetrable barrier.

Something brushed up against the bed causing it to rock. A small squeaking sound came from the throat of the youngest, the popping stopped only to be replaced by the sound of something snorting, sniffing.

Ears twitched that shouldn't be listening. Something heavy pushing down on the edge of the bed as something sniff- sniff- sniffed over their heads.

Leonardo held on tighter, pushing his brother's beak into his shoulder trying to comfort as much as he possibly could. This was absolutely terrifying. He couldn't handle this alone, and Mikey was too scared to be of much help. He had to be protected.

He stifled a cry from his baby brother when whatever was over them grunted, the bed bouncing from the heavy pressure suddenly lifting off.

Something clutched the edge of the blanket and began to slowly tug.

The orange loving turtle's breath hitched along with his brother's. What little protection they had left was being taken away from them. They would be exposed, vulnerable...

Cold, and rubbery, was all he registered as something slapped up the side of the bed onto his thigh, that odd joint popping sound so close he could practically feel it in his throat.

"RAPH!!!"

It was screamed so loud that Leo felt his ear drums ring. But he wouldn't feel them ring right away, he was too busy following a streak of green that had leapt from the bed and practically flew to the door. The knob rattled several times as he came up behind his sibling, Michelangelo was making desperate sounds before the knob finally twisted and allowed him to leave. The door was thrown open so fast and so hard that it smacked against a dresser leaving a mark. The two were out of there, not looking back. Feet slamming against the stairs as they made a mad dash for it.

Raphael was in the middle of throwing his covers off of him -he had been dousing off when he heard his name desperately called- when all of the sudden the bedroom door swung open. Two teenaged turtles jumped on him, holding onto his sides.

"W-what in the shell are you two doin'?"

The two started to just belt out everything at once, it didn't help that Leonardo was speaking in a mixture of Japanese and English -a sure sign that he was scared. Michelangelo on the other hand couldn't get out a full sentence, only things along the lines of, "it-and the bed-the door wouldn't open-" it would take a psychic to understand what he was saying at that moment.

"Hey, hey," he rubbed his hands over their shells at a complete loss as for what to do. His job was hitting and breaking things, not being comforting. But now he was kind of stuck and could do nothing else, "Cool it, okay?

The light to his room flicked on, a worried Donatello and Splinter at the doorway.

"Is everything okay?" Donatello's soft voice helped calm the two down as he came in, placing a hand on Leo's carapace.

"What happened?" Splinter came closer, his sons letting go of Raphael in favor for the ultimate protection that their father's presence could provide.

"I don't know. First I'm fallin' asleep, then I hear my name screamed, and then these two came runnin' into the room."

Splinter rubbed his palms over shell and skin trying to calm his two frightened sons down. Whatever had happened was bad enough to even reduce his most prized student to the state of a frightened child; he must know the story. He had to know what had happened so he could prevent it from happening again, "Tell me, what had happened."

He got the same thing Raphael had, only more jumbled due to the fact they both didn't want to remove their faces for the rat's tunic. Okay, different approach.

"Leonardo, tell me what happened."

To Be Continued...


	7. Chapter 7

G is for Greg who died in the womb

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Whom had ever thought to close the door and place a lock would keep them safe was mistaken. Most people couldn't hear it, nor could they see it, the person that was and was not there. The person who couldn't eat, nor sleep, nor feel love nor hate. It was someone like a shadow, stretched across the floor, gaunt and stingy. Fingers twitched, when stiff for many years, their reflection only able to be caught in a sheet of summer rain.

Most people were lucky.

The ones who could pass objects moving on their own, items vanishing into thin air, as nothing but normal. These were the ones who could easily say, "the wind blew the candle out" when there was no wind; tell others, "the train going by makes the couch bang against the wall to make that knocking sound," when the train had long since passed.

These were the ones in denial.

Then there were the others. The others that couldn't sleep because when they open their eyes someone is peering down at them from above only to disappear soon as they blinked. These people had to go to church and speak to priests and ask for houses to be blessed, for demons to be pushed out of the warm confines of the homes' walls. It would not work, the spirit angered and willing to cause harm.

This was how Michelangelo feared it would turn out.

He had waited with his brothers as the rat father explored the room that had caused two of his prized sons to run in fear. He had sniffed for any foul scents, any dark odor that could be accompanied by anything even remotely physical. He turned off the light and shut himself up in the room until dawn only to emerge to say that he had found nothing.

"But! But there was something there! It rocked the bed, something touched my leg. You believe me right?!" He looked from face to face. Donatello was looking away, Leo was fixated on the cup of tea in his hands, Raphael scratched the back of his head while Splinter fixed his youngest with a gaze of pity. "Leo! Leo you were there, you went through it too."

"Mikey, I'm... not sure what had happened," forest green fingers rubbed at eyes trying to clear the fog of fear out of his mind. He had been there, he had felt it, had heard it, but all of his training was telling him that it couldn't be. They had fought spirits before, mystics that had long past died, even the original Shredder who turned out to be nothing more than a demon in human skin. But the fact still remained that throughout all of it he had not once become so scared. He wasn't paralyzed under blankets as something undulated across the floor. Never before had he experienced something that felt not even of this world but completely out of reach. It was the unknown of the unknown. "Maybe," he licked his dry lips, finger tapping on his cup, feet shifting under the table where he sat. "Maybe it didn't really happen and we were just freaking each other out."

"Freaking- huh? How would we do that Leo?! Was it the pepperoni and ice cream pizza right before bed?! Because I know I didn't hear any scary stories last night, did you?!!"

Leonardo flinched, finally giving his little brother the courtesy of looking at him, "That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

"Michelangelo!"

The room fell silence from the harsh bark from the father with the walking-stick. The old rat flicked his tail in annoyance, "Do not speak to your brother that way. He is only rationalizing what could happen."

"But-"

"'But' nothing! I do not believe you to be a liar, nor do I think that Leonardo is wholly wrong, but we must assume -with out further evidence- that he is correct."

The orange loving turtle frowned, a stabbing pain in his chest; no one believed him. He murmured something about getting some air before excusing himself from the room. This was ridiculous, Leo was just in denial.

Storming out the back door he kicked at the yellowing grass. The day's light making the field that surrounded the house seem so innocent compared to what he had experienced just the other night. The forest that lined the neglected land was still dark though, as if the sun couldn't penetrate past the thick mix of evergreen and deciduous trees. The leaf-less branches of the sleeping trees threaded through green needles like boney fingers.

What if Leo was right? What if in the previous night he had been working himself up for a good scare and just imagined it all? He did have the best imagination out of all of them, even Donnie said he was over creative some times. Maybe... Maybe he could just prove to himself that everything that his family was assuming was true by going into the forest. If he found no weird beast that made no sound then they were right, then again... what if he was right. He took a deep breath and started to walk towards the tree lines, he would just make sure that he was careful. If he saw something that resembled the silhouette from the night where the moon was bright and the frost glistened, then he would keep his distance, make sure it didn't know he was there. Then he could tell his brothers, he could bring them and show them proof like tracks or fur brushed off onto bramble.

The closer he got to the forest though he didn't feel so courageous. He didn't like the way that the shadows shifted, nor did he particularly enjoy the fact that he could hear the sound of a cat crying inside. He liked cats. He missed Klunk already, but Klunk was a strong kitty and could fend for himself... unless he was in a ninja fight. Mikey made a mental note to go and train Klunk to attack on command. He didn't trim the cat's claws because his own skin was thick enough to not really feel the tinny prickles when Klunk kneaded his paws when petted. But for humans and their paper thin hides those claws were devastating.

"Kitty-Kitty," he called out getting closer. He heard the cat's plea that was a mixture of a meow and a yowl. "Here Kitty-Kitty," he spoke once more, pausing at the darkness that was the entrance of the forest. He stretched and looked one way, craned his neck and twisted his body to look another. There was a dart of shadow, "Kitty."

The sea-green turtle stepped into the forest, swallowed by the darkness that only had a few rays of sunlight piercing through the canopy of trees. During the summer it must have been black as night for now there was only light due to the loss of foliage. He had forgotten to be keeping a vigil for a shadow that lumbered and breathed, his mind was focused on the sound of the cat. There were so many possibilities why there was a cat out there in the wilderness, and none that he liked. It could have gotten lost while out and exploring, it could have been released into the wild because people couldn't take care of him, or worse -he was abandoned because the former owners just didn't want him any more.

"Kitty, come to Uncle Mikey," he pushed a few branches from a fur tree to the side while looking, going deeper into the forest. "Kitty."

The yowl once more, the lonely sound echoing all around him. With acoustics like that it was hard for him to locate where it was coming from... maybe if he went left. He kept on calling, searching, trying to find the cat that was making sounds that made his heart ache. So lonely, so sad. It almost sounded like it was grieving.

Then it went silent. Quiet as a dead man's breath.

Swallowing, the ninja heard his own saliva passing down his throat, the sound loud in the still air.

"K-Kitty?" His meek whimper sounded like a growling shout.

Something soft touched his leg, he gave a shout jumping back. His heart nearly bursting out of his chest from the surprise. Looking down he found a long haired black cat, eyes as orange as ripe pumpkins. He gave a small laugh, "Ha, you scared me there kitty." He bent down, offering his hand for the cat to sniff only to have a small head thrust into his palm as the cat purred loudly, pacing around, rubbing its thin body against his hand. Mikey frowned deeply as he picked up the little guy, with a flick of the tail he checked, yep, it was a boy. If he ended up keeping this one then he didn't want to go and suddenly explain why Klunk was an expecting daddy to Master Splinter. Rubbing his fingers over ribs his frown turned into a scowl.

"You're nothing but skin and bones," he ran his hand down the spine to find he could practically count the vertebra. "Well don't worry, Uncle Mikey's got ya."

Cradling the cat to his chest he found a small blue collar with a white tag, engraved on it the name "Jack."

"You're name's Jack huh? That's a good name, if you were a 'real boy'. I might have to rename you soon as we... uh... uh-oh," he didn't recognize where he was, he was so busy looking for the cat that he forgot where he was going.

Something broke a twig on the ground, heavy footsteps coming his way.

Michelangelo gulped, pulling Jack closer to his chest in a protective manner as he focused on a shadow moving in the trees in the distance.

To Be Continued...


	8. Chapter 8

H is for Heather sealed in a tomb.

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Donatello sighed heavily. He felt horrible for not saying anything. Mikey really needed someone to reassure him and all he did was stand there and look away. It wasn't normal to see him so scared, or see Leo with a mirrored expression. It was unsettling, it shook his nerves. It was... He bit his lip while leaning over the bathroom sink. It was no reason to just pale out on him like that.

"-LP!!"

His head snapped up from the white porcelain he was gazing upon, as if the swirling water had all the answers to his problems.

"HELP!!!"

Darting for the door, he wrenched it open and raced down the stairs nearly stumbling over his own momentum. He sharply turned nearly colliding into the small alcove, "Leo?!" he called out desperate to find the brother that was calling for him.

Nothing, no sound.

"Leo!" He moved from room to room, open doors trying to find his brother, "Leo!!"

"Don?" a sudden hand clasped on his shoulder causing him to jump with a shout whirling around quickly.

"Leo," he held a hand to his chest. "Jeeze," he took a few breaths, "You okay?"

"I should be asking you that," Blue frowned. "You look horrible."

"I heard you shouting for help."

The leader shook his head, "I didn't say anything. I've been reading on the couch when you came crashing down looking for me."

"But- I was so sure it was your voice..."

A soft smile, a pet to the head, "You're just spooked from what happened. I'm sorry to have done that to you."

"No, it's... it's okay." His gaze turning to the floor, brows knitted together in thought. He had been so certain that it was Leo who had yelled, but now that he thought back to it he wasn't so sure. Did the yell have an identifying voice? Did he just imagined it? It's possible. He was still on edge after last night, and now he was beating himself up over Mikey. He gave another heavy sigh, this time forcing his body to relax, "You're right, I'm just... worried, I mean after last night and now Mikey..."

"Don't worry, Raph went out to find him."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, Raph isn't exactly the most articulate nor the most understanding."

Leo waved his hand while moving towards the front room, Donatello following, "I think this time he'll make an exception."

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The shadow moved closer, stopping before it could come into the light. Michelangelo swallowed, shifting into a ready position to run, Jack's orange eyes one him innocent and wondering what was wrong with his new found friend.

"Mikey?"

"R-Raph?" He squeaked at, squinting at the shadow, leaning forward trying to get a better look. "That you?"

"Over here duffus," a finger tapped him on the shoulder.

With a scream the youngest spun around on his heel coming face to face with his brother. But wait... "If... If you're over here then..." he began to shake, "Then who's over there?"

"Over where?" Red asked not liking his greeting to be a scream.

"Over..." when Mikey turned to point it out, the shadow was gone. That did not make him feel any more comfortable than being alone with the shadow. Turning back to his brother he excitedly spoke, "There was a shadow over there, it was moving and- and... never mind." His eyes grew sad gaze cast away.

"Hey."

Orange didn't respond, only focused on the cat in his arms.

"Hey," Raph cupped his brother's face in his palms forcing him to look at him. "No matter what, I'm not about to say you're wrong."

"But..." He was confused now, did Raph believe him or was he just saying stuff to make him feel better?

"You say you saw something, you saw something," he let go of Mikey's cheeks, "Now where was it?"

"I-it was over there," he pointed still not sure what to think.

Something felt gross in Michelangelo's throat, as if he swallowed something that was rich and slimy. He didn't want to go over there, something wasn't right about this area, about this forest. He just wanted to leave and feed Jack. A hand rested on his shoulder, he mindlessly reached up and covered it with his own.

"Let's give it a look then," Raphael said passing on his other side, his hands firmly on his hips as he strutted towards the place that shifted in the sudden soft breeze.

"Ra-" he felt the fingers under his palm squeeze his shoulder. He quickly turned, nothing. The feeling gone. "Raph, can we just leave?"

The older of the two looked at the paled turtle, "You okay? You look kind of sick. You comin' down with somethin'?"

"I don't know and I don't care! I just want to **go**!"

A concern gaze, "Yeah sure bro, come on."

Raphael put a hand on Mikey's shell worried at the way that the boy stumbled.

To Be Continued...


	9. Chapter 9

I is for Isic who lost his front breaks

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"Mikey," Donatello squatted down next to his brother. "Come on, I'm sorry. I really am, I just didn't know what to say."

"Oh sure," the boy turned away, shell to his sibling, thread-clippers in hand. "Your silence was enough, okay. You think I'm crazy and it's okay, I mean, I would think you were crazy too if I didn't know any better. But I do, Donnie, I know better than to go and just throw years of knowing someone out the window like that. Now if you'll excuse me, Jack needs these ugly mats clipped off his starving body."

The sarcastic tone was thick, the last part a final -leave me alone or else- warning. The olive turtle sighed straightening himself out into a standing position. He folded his arms over his chest, watching sea-green fingers delicately pull at fur just enough to wiggle the fine blades of the scissors against skin and clip.

Ever since Michelangelo came home with his new found friend he had been quiet. He found some tuna in the cupboard and was currently feeding the cat his second can. The cat's fur was so matted to his body that it was practically impossible to fit a shaver between skin and fur with out cutting the neglected thing. Mikey had been concentrating hard when Donatello found him, he thought it would be a good time to apologize but obviously the wound was still raw on the young one's heart.

"Call me if... you need any help," he softly said.

The purple clad ninja felt a pang in his heart from the snorted, "Whatever."

With a soundless sigh, Donatello's shoulders sagged. He wished he could explain how he really felt, but if Mikey wasn't willing to listen then it wasn't like he could do much more than wait until he was willing to receive the apology.

"I... really am sorry," he whispered gazing down at the top of his little brother's head, eyes sad. He knew better than to push it any further, knowing his little brother, the teen would be more receptive in a few hours. But it still didn't quell the hurt inside. He honestly didn't think that he had harmed Michelangelo's feelings that much.

Shifting his weight from one foot he slowly padded away, leaving Michelangelo alone in the corner of the kitchen.

"It's okay Jack," Mike spoke in a soft voice pulling a tiny twig out of skin. He sniffled as he continued to work on the matted fur and the nasty pieces of bark and twigs that were imbedded into it. He didn't know what bothered him more; the condition Jack was in or the fact that Donatello sounded so crushed before leaving.

----------------

Raphael looked up from his book, eyes blinking slowly as paws jabbed into his side, Jack crawling on the turtle who was laying on one side on the bed he was once more sharing with Mikey. His own red-brown eyes mirroring the docile look his new roommate had.

"You look like a shaved peach," Raph said plainly going back to his book. "And you shouldn't encourage him. He's already got enough troubles with out you going around and meowing all helpless-like whenever he leaves your sight."

The cat didn't reply, only tucked his paws under his chest and settled down, showing he wasn't willing to go anywhere for a while. The large turtle didn't really mind, he was used to Klunk claiming him as his own personal couch whenever he was home alone. What he did mind was the fact that Jack had become Mikey's excuse to not interact with the rest of the family. Sure he would talk to Raph, ask him things here and there, crack jokes and make bad puns, but only with him. If Leo came around, if Donnie tried to talk to him, and if Splinter even came into the same room he would scoop up the cat and just leave. It didn't help matters that he was babying the feline as if it had two broken legs. Jack was soaking up the attention like a little dry sponge. The creature had quickly decided that Mikey was his owner and needed to protect him, hence why he swiped at Leo when the fearless leader tired to corner the orange loving turtle in order to force him to talk.

Jack had sharper claws than Klunk, the nasty little grooves in Leo's palm was a testament to that. Though, that did get Mikey to say he was sorry and at least spend some time with Leo to patch up the wound and clip Jack's claws.

The bed dipped down when Mikey sat on the edge, towel swishing from side to side as he dried off his head from his shower. He smiled over his shoulder taking in the sight of the once black cat and Raph, at least Jack could get along with Raph. If he didn't, well... he would have had to do something about it because he wasn't about to let go of the one person who was willing to believe him.

Blue eyes trailed over structure of face, the fine curves of body and shell. He found his face heating up with a blush as he took in the look, Raph was...

"Something caught your eye? Maybe I've moss from the woods still on me," Raphael's voice was just as lazy as his slow blink.

If he didn't know any better -which he did- he would have thought that his brother was giving him a hungry look. In order to distract his thoughts, he shook his head, "No moss."

"Then why are you lookin' at me like that." It was a demand to know, not a question.

"You," think quick, think, think. "look kind of like Jack."

"I can't look shaved if I never had hair nimrod."

"Not that, I mean you look feline."

An emerald brow raised, "Excuse me?"

Reaching over, Michelangelo ran a hand softly down his brother's side, "The way you poise yourself, the curve of your hips, the lay of your legs, the way one of your arms is tucked under you while you read... the shape of your eyes, the color." He pulled his hand away, turning so his shell was to Raph. He didn't want to show his brother his blushing face, "You just," he shrugged a shoulder trying to brush off the feelings that were starting to squirm in his stomach, "you know, look like a cat some times."

There was an audible sound of a book slapping shut, he flinched worried that he was found out, that he was going to get yelled at or hit. But all that happened was a shift on the bed, his towel pulled from his head. He blinked surprised, twisting around a little finding Raph drying the last of the moisture off of his shell. It was a relaxing feeling.

They were both quiet for a while, nothing but the sound of the rustling fabric of the towel. Michelangelo leaned into the touches that ran down the back of his neck to dip down to dry the inner lip of his shell and get that hard to reach spot of his back where skin met carapace.

"You know," Raph's voice was low, like building thunder. "You should really talk to Don."

Orange sighed, "I know, I just... It just sucks, you're the only one who believes me. Why's that, I don't even know. I mean, Leo has a point, maybe I'm just so messed up from everything that's happened to us that I've finally decided to crack and go crazy."

Pulling his feet up onto the bed he rested his chin on his knees, the towel was tossed to the floor. Hands slowly wrapped around his shoulders, arms encompassing him in warmth as the power flickered, harsh thunder outside crashing as rain fled from clouds to the earth. Normally he would have jumped at the sudden harsh sound, but it was hard to be on edge when he was relaxing in the embrace of his brother.

"You're not crazy Mikey," he whispered into a bare ear, orange mask still on a dresser. Raph nuzzled his cheek against his siblings, a gesture that he had not done since they were small children. It was always a calming point for all of his brothers, to see the sudden softer side of the rough and tough one in the group. It allowed them to drop their defenses, to just relax and know that everything was okay as long as they were right there in that spot being shown how important they were in such a simple way.

Reaching up, the sea-green turtle placed his hands on the arms wrapped around him, "Thanks..."

"Feelin' better?" the older ninja let go, pulling back.

"Yeah."

"Good," he suddenly swatted the youngest upside the head.

"OW!" rubbing his sore spot Michelangelo barked out, "What was that for?"

"For being dumb. Don tried to tell you he was sorry and you just focused on your stupid cat, Leo tried to talk to you but you made up excuse after excuse until he got his hand practically mulched by Jack, and Sensei's not doing much better himself because he can't even get near you! Stop being dumb and talk to them."

"Okay, geeze, and here I thought you were going to be nice a love me all night long."

Raphael got up, he crossed the room and flipped off the switch to turn off the flickering light leaving them in the dark, "Right and you can be serious for a whole hour."

"Sarcasm isn't going to win you love points cracker," Mikey stuck out his tongue while crawling under the blankets.

"Stop callin' me that," Raph joined him, not protesting when the sea-green ninja curled up to his side and started to use his shoulder for a pillow.

"Seriously though," blue eyes stared into the darkness, fingers playing on old scars on his brother's chest. "It would be nice to have you like that more often… I miss your hugs."

"People change," was the soft reply an emerald hand rested on the back of Mikey's head. "Just go to sleep."

And he waited.

Waited for the tender breathing to start up, waited for his brother to roll off of him and cuddle down into sheets and pillows. Then, slowly, he moved, wrapping an arm around chest; chin resting against neck as he pressed his body against his little brother. Closing his eyes he held tightly, his heart aching with each and every beat. He tucked his head down, breath washing over neck as he whispered in a choked voice, "I wish I could do somethin' more for ya..."

On the floor, Jack stared up at the two, orange eyes taking in the sight, ears twitching at the silent plea for better things to come.

To Be Continued...


	10. Chapter 10

J is for Jonny who was bitten by snakes.

--------------------

He couldn't get up. Something was keeping him there, still in the chair that was surrounded by nothingness. His hands wrung as he sat, wanting to stand but if he got up then something would happen, something bad. He didn't know why, he just knew. So he sat, he waited feeling like a small child with out a comfort. Something smiled in the dark, a mouth that looked like a slit of white and red. Tiny sharp teeth, too many to fit into any sort of head, pulled with the red, making a curled grin.

"You're a good child," the mouth didn't flow with the words that were spoken in a voice that had no rumble, it had no whispers nor no sound. It was like hearing a thought. The odd voice continued, "Such a good, little child."

Mikey's lips pressed together, his eyes trying to pull away from the mouth that opened and shut like gills on a fish. Two more slits carved their way into the shadows, upside-down crescents, the color of flickering candle light.

"Good, good, child. So sweet, so full of drink."

He wanted to ask what that meant, full of drink. But he remained still, not moving, he remained still as the odd face moved as if it was laughing, no sound coming out. It started to bob one way then the other a taunting melody drifting upon whispers that felt like memories, "Drink, drink, little child, drink, drink."

Mikey woke up, not with a start, not with a jump. He only woke, his whole body shivering. Rolling his head to the side, he found his roommate fast asleep, their hands clutched together tightly, his grip on his brother's hand white knuckled. Why had he become so frightened of such a simple dream? Why was his throat so dry and felt so sore as if he had been screaming?

He didn't care. He just curled up against his brother, arm coming around side and shell. He shivered under the blankets even though his body was hot and sweating. Pressing his cheek to strong shoulder he dared not to close his eyes, he could still hear that voice, "Child, good little child." It was everywhere yet no where at all. Tears slipped down his open eyes, pooling on Raphael's skin. He had hoped he wouldn't have heard the singing any more, even though this was a different melody, a different voice. He didn't want to hear it.

"I really am going crazy," he whispered to himself, squeezing his eyes shut as his silently sobbed on his brother. A sense of betrayal sneaking into his heart, Raphael had been there for him, had been the one to take his tantrums and still tell him he wasn't insane. And here he was, hearing a voice that had no voice at all.

"Mmm," Red bandana tails moved over pillows as the larger turtle woke up. "Mikey? Hey," he moved so that he was sitting up bringing Mikey with him, hand coming to crying face. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," the youngest whispered, bowing his head not willing to open his eyes to look at the one he had betrayed. "I'm sorry."

With a little effort, Raph got his sibling to let go of his hand. He allowed Michelangelo to hold onto him, arms shaking with every breath that washed over his chest. He didn't know what to do; there was nothing he **could **do. The sea-green ninja was holding onto him so tightly, wasn't willing to move. All that there was for him to act upon was to run his hand down head, neck, and shell. He petted the one holding onto him, one stroke, two. The silent cries started to develop into full blown wails of anguish, muffled by his chest.

If he thought he had been useless before, that he was helpless to do anything previously, then he felt like absolute scum now. His heart cried and sobbed with Michelangelo as he abandoned the petting for holding onto the turtle that needed to be held. "Mikey," he whispered the name tightening his hold. He felt like he should be the one to apologize, for not being able to understand what he was going through. He should be the one to tell him that he was sorry for not being good enough to keep all the bad things away.

He should have been the one to say he was sorry.

-------------------------------

"You look like something a zombie threw up," Donatello's eyes were wide at the sight of his baby brother in the morning. He came over to the little one with blood shot eyes and paler skin than usual. There were dark rims under baby blues -mask falling to one side, slipping out of the poor knot it had been tied into. Pulling back his wrist pad, he looked from one eye to the next, "What happened to you? You catch a cold?" He put his bare wrist against forehead, "You're temperature is a little low. I'll make soup for dinner tonight and-"

Brown eyes blinked in bewilderment when he was grabbed up into a hug, Mikey sniffling out, "Sorry."

"I-it's okay Mike," he patted the other's carapace. He was squeezed tighter for a second before he was let go.

"I'm really sorry, Don."

Purple smoothed a hand over head, "Hey, I'm the one that's sorry okay. I should have listened to your side of the argument yesterday."

Michelangelo only shook his head, "It's okay." His bandana slipped off fully to rest around his neck.

Donatello forced a smile, though it was strained, "Why don't you sit down, I'll go and make you some hot apple cider."

His initial worry strengthened when the sickly turtle let himself be guided to the couch and seated. Hurriedly, he went to the kitchen finding Splinter and Leonardo at the table.

"Everything okay Don?" Leo looked up from the game of Go he was playing with Splinter, the worry on the mechanic's face was apparent.

Splinter as well gazed up to his son who was quickly putting hot water from the tea kettle into a cup.

"Mikey's sick. I think he caught something while out in the woods yesterday, maybe even came into contact with something that doesn't agree with his system in Jack's fur," Donatello replied shaking a packet of cider, "But the good news is he's feeling more like himself emotionally..."

"Should we do anything to assist?" Splinter asked starting to get up.

"Not right now," purple smiled to the old rat, mixing the drink in hand. "I looks like he's about to go to sleep at any moment." He started to leave and paused, "Well, you know, if you wanted to you could call Casey or April and ask them to bring up some medicine, some cold and some allergy. I'm not sure if it's allergies or what -yet."

Their father tapped his walking stick across the tiled floor, "Very well."

His long nails pointed up as he tried not to press his claws into the buttons on the simple phone that hung on the kitchen wall. As the line rung he observed Leonardo contemplating on his next move, Go proving to be a much more difficult game to play than shogi or chess even though the only playing pieces besides the board were black and white stones.

"Hello?"

"Ah -Miss O'Neil, good morning to you," he smiled into the receiver.

"Splinter, how are things going? Casey told me about how you all are taking a vacation."

"It is going well, but unfortunately it would seem Michelangelo got into something that he shouldn't have."

"That's Mike for you. What does he need? Anti-itch cream?"

"No, no, I'm sorry to have to ask, but could you come here with some cold and allergy medicine?"

"Oh, he's sick? Okay, I'll be over this afternoon."

"Thank-"

There was a shout, sounds of tumbling.

Silence.

April frowned on her side of the phone line, that didn't sound good.

"RAPH!!" Mikey and Don's voices together.

The phone clattered, then dead air.

"Guys? GUYS!"

Slamming down the phone she ran for her jacket.

To Be Continued...


	11. Chapter 11

K is for Kimmy who was shot in the head.

-----------------------------

"For the last time," he batted away a five fingered hand away from him. "I said I was fine, April."

"Fine Raphael?" the human huffed.

She had heard the commotion, heard the cries of his brothers. The redhead had bolted over as fast as possible, barely remembering to go to Raphael's best friend and bring him with. Her foot was putting the petal to the medal in the car the whole way, speeding like a mad bat straight out of the belly of hell. She tripped up the front steps, scraping her knees.

When she clambered in with a just as clumsy Casey Jones behind her, she ended up knocking into Leonardo who was carrying a bunch of medical supplies. Her little heart was hammering against her chest as she asked what had happened. When she found out he only had a concussion, a badly twisted ankle and a just as messed up elbow she was filled with relief. But that still didn't give her a peace of mind until he had passed the stage of staying awake for 24 hours, no one wanted to risk him going to sleep and not waking up just because of a whack to the back of the head by some stairs.

"Fine is when you've stayed up for twelve more hours Mister," she huffed, rubbing at the bridge of her nose she tried to ward away the headache that was coming on.

She sighed, feeling Michelangelo's eyes on her. As if Raph's condition wasn't bad enough; Michelangelo himself had been rather unreasonable this whole time. He had been unwilling to participate with anything she's asked, it took her a good ten minutes to talk him into taking some night time cold medicine. She had spent another two hours trying to convince him it was okay to go to sleep and that everything would be okay in the morning.

He went to his room only to come back, holding his new cat, Jack. He sat on the couch next to Raphael and tuned her out until she moved to get something for her emerald green friend. Whenever she would talk to him, Mikey was watching her, an uncharacteristic frown on his face. Now he was just full out glaring. It had proven useless to ask what was the matter. She just chalked it up to him worrying, and feeling rotten from illness all at the same time.

April excused herself from the room, mumbling something about finding some medicine for her headache.

"She could at least try to be a little nicer," Mikey snorted turning his attention back to the late night TV program.

He was nudged, "What's with you?"

"Hm?"

Innocent blue eyes turned to the red clad ninja, still glistening from the possible flu virus that was building in his system. There was no frown, no pout, no scowl, nor glare, it was his little brother before all of this, before their fight back at home, before he started to become haunted by the secrets he was unwilling to speak about.

Raphael caught himself reaching over, finger tips pressed against beak. He felt his cheeks flush as he realized he had been meaning to caress a sea-green cheek. Instead he compromised and gently flicked the youngest over the nose, "You know what I mean."

A classic Mikey grin, it was short, but it was there before it became strained and fell away. Turning back to the TV, he tried to pretend that he had not noticed the potential caress. He spoke to himself in his mind that it was not what was about to happen and that he was not disappointed that he did not get it. Not disappointed at all...

"She's worried about you too."

"I-I know... I just..." he sighed. He was just defensive. Unlike them, April was fragile and if he ended up snapping -becoming the type of crazy person that was dangerous- then he knew his family could handle him, but her...

Tiny paws pressed onto the crown of his head, moving slightly he looked up, Jack's fluffy face looking to big on his shaved body. The cat purred, kneading his front paws as his back legs perched on the back of the couch.

"You should listen to him," Raph reached for a the bag of chips that was on the coffee table, careful of his arm in the sling. "Take things easy... cheese ball."

-----------------------

Leonardo slowly blinked his eyes, it was hard to sleep. After what had happened in the past few days he was seriously thinking about talking to Splinter about just going home.

Michelangelo's personality was changing, and in a confusing way. At times he was his normal self, others he was secluded, barring all family from him. Raphael was changing a little himself, clearly for the better. He was becoming softer, more understanding. Maybe that was why he was apprehensive about all of this. He liked seeing a gentle Raph, it made his heart warm and all he wanted to do when he saw those gentle secret smiles directed towards Mikey was hug his younger brother. He was pleased that the two were creating a stronger bond between them, and he could foresee all of their bounds strengthening as well over time. He didn't want to ruin that.

Sitting up he sighed, he wasn't going to sleep any time soon, might as well go down stairs and hang out with his brother. Rubbing his face he heard his door creak.

His shoulders tensed.

He could feel someone watching him. It wasn't a familiar gaze either.

Slowly, lifting his head from his hands he peered over his fingers. Jaw clenched tight as he dared not to move.

Little eyes watching him, small hands holding the very same doll he saw blink when first coming to the house.

He didn't dare twitch, only waited for _it_ to move. But _it_ only watched, peering in as if waiting for permission to enter. No movement, no sound, only the blank stare of one who had lost life.

He tried not to shudder, he tried not to blink, but the odd dry dripping sound of small dropplets hitting the carpet filled the silence. The gaping wound in the head exposing more than just bone and scalp.

To Be Continued...


	12. Chapter 12

L is for Larry who bled and bled.

-------------------------

He didn't sleep, he wasn't willing to douse off only to wake up to that thing staring inside, or worse, not wake up at all. He knew he was pushing it, letting his fears just run through him, and he was trying to rationalize it. There had to be a reason why this was all happening, a reason behind his fears and hallucinations. At first he truly believed that everything was because he had been so concerned about Mikey and Raph; that dream they shared before they came to this place, it was truly a terrifying one. He thought about it for so long that he was certain that he was only spooking himself and allowing poor judgment to reign over him. When in fact, when he thought back, sat and meditated in the cold air outside on this fine November day, those were only excuses.

Everything he had encountered before was tangible in one way or another, even when Shredder's mystics had attacked their spirit they were able to fight back. This on the other hand was different. This wrapped whispers of fingers around the heart and squeezed tightly leaving nothing but the unknown. It left him defenseless, it left him open to attack and all he could do was watch and deny. Leonardo now knew he was in denial and it wasn't for himself, it was for his family. What good was he if he couldn't protect them? Mikey was getting worse with his jitters, the only things around to calm him now were Raph and Jack. Raph was restricted from training for the next couple of days until his ankle and elbow had reduced in swelling, and the bruises left on his ankle were starting to take shape. Even though the prideful turtle insisted that he only fell because he tripped they could all see the hand print wrapped around his injured joint. Raph was dexterous, he never fell with out someone throwing him. And for him to say such a thing...

Tawny eyes opened, the leader pulling himself out of his lotus meditative position. He needed to talk to Raph.

Raph on the other hand was going to be hard to find. He had gotten bored of just sitting around as Mikey finally slept. He tried reading his mystery novel but it got too repetitive and he already figured out that it was the uncle of the girl who killed her mother for the life insurance money. It was a lame plot, he'd seen it done over and over again on TV. He tried starting a new one, but it was over descriptive to the point that the first ten pages were nothing but the description of how this lady was speeding down the high way and was taking in the scenery. Reading one of Donatello's physics text books had more plot to it than that. He tried to watch some TV but cut short when he realized that April was watching soap operas with Splinter after she woke up from her mid-day nap.

So with nothing else better to do he decided to explore. He made sure to take it slow, not wanting to upset his ankle into messing up to the point he wouldn't be able to train for a whole week. He made his way around the back of the house and into the field. There really wasn't much outside either. What he wouldn't give just to train right then.

A heavy sigh sagged his shoulders, maybe he'd turn back and bother Donnie for a game of cards or something.

Turning to go back something off in the distance caught his eye. He squinted trying to make out the faint lines. Was it...? Yes it was, a shack just on the rim of the property next to the road. That was an odd place to have a shack, so far away from the house. Shrugging more to himself at the oddity, he started to make his way over.

----------------------

Leo found Mikey being tucked into bed by their brown-green brother, tray of medicine on the end table by the bed. He smiled a little at the way Donatello ran his hand across their little brother's scalp with tender petting until breath evened out and the young one was fast asleep. Donatello quietly left, shutting the door behind him. He smiled to the brother who had been watching.

"He's doing better, his fever broke and now he's just tired."

Blue nodded, "Good to hear. Say, have you seen Raph?"

"Isn't he in the front room?"

The forest green ninja shook his head, "Nope, only Splinter and April, and Casey hasn't come back from his errands in town."

"Did you check the porch?"

"Not there either... You don't think he would be upstairs..." Leo frowned at his own words, it would have been very hard for Raphael to get up there and fairly noisy as well only able to use one foot to climb stairs with. Hobbling around was one thing, stair climbing was another.

"No, I was just up there vacuuming the rooms."

The frown only deepened, "Then where could that shell for brains have gone?"

"Let me toss this into the laundry room and I'll help you find him," the worry obvious in the turtle's voice.

Quickly he passed through the kitchen, noticing Jack pounce on something black in the corner and try to scarf it down. He shook his head, must have been a spider. Klunk was notorious for catching all sorts of bugs back at home, stuffing them down his gullet as fast as possible as if insects were his main food source. Why would a previously stray cat be any different?

With a flick of the wrist the wet hand towel was thrown into the laundry hamper, a spin on the heel and he was headed back to the kitchen where Leo was waiting outside the back door. That's when he heard it, a strange high pitched squeak. It wasn't like a rodent, nor something rubbing across the floor. No, this was more of a cry, a tiny cry as if catching the tail end of a sobbing wail. An odd crunch, the sound of gnashing teeth and wet sucking of juices.

His jaw tightened, it was coming from the corner where Jack was in.

The feline's head bobby as it feasted on something no bigger than a large beetle. He visibly blanched, at least in the sewers bugs were not that juicy.

"You coming or do I have to send a search party for you too?"

Brown eyes rolled as the smartest of the four went to the screen door and pushed it open, "Ha, ha, funny Leo. Send a search party for someone who was right in your line of vision."

"I thought it was funny," blue grinned as he watched Donatello shut the door.

-----------------

The shack was what it was, a shack. Small in size -possibly could fit six standing men inside leaving only enough room to breathe from wall to wall. The weather beaten door had pealing white paint and a few cut out slabs up high for windows. He looked at the padlock, new compared to the handle and chain it was attached to. Running his thumb over it he wondered if Casey had the key to it, because he certainly knew they only had the house keys. Then again it was a simple lock, he could pick it in under two seconds flat.

A small whine.

An animal maybe?

Shuddering breath and a long scared sound.

A kid. There was a kid in there?

"Hey, someone in there?" he knocked on the door.

Only a sob in reply.

Looking around for possibly a rock to stand on to get a better look through the windows, Raph found a discarded back pack. With a frown he stretched up to the tip of his toes, looking in the angle only giving him sight of one corner of the room inside. A little boy curled up, clutching his arms as he silently cried.

"Hang on kid, I'll have you out in no time."

Pulling out one of his sai he slid the thin end into the lock. A few twists and a little turn and it snapped open. As he removed the chain he grumbled to himself. Some stupid bullies must have found the local nerd and decided it would be fun to traumatize him by sticking him out in the middle of nowhere with no way to run. He's heard stories where people did that only because some poor child looked a little goofy with thick glasses or didn't fit perfectly into society. Some times the cruel pranks would go out of hand and the victim would be left, forgotten and eventually would die. People were stupid.

"It's unlocked now kid, come on out."

He waited, nothing.

"Kid?" Raph put his hand on the door, swinging it open half way.

"Raph!"

He looked over his shoulder seeing Donnie and Leo coming towards him in a slow place.

"What are you doing over there?"

"Some poor kid got locked in here. I'm just getting him out, Don."

"Kid? What kid?"

"The kid with he Star Wars back pack," he pointed to the side, arm dropping a little.

That didn't make sense. There was no back pack. But it had been right there. "I don't get it," he mumbled. Maybe he didn't see a back pack and just thought he did.

He saw it, he didn't see it, it made no difference to him, there was a kid locked up that needed help.

Pushing the door fully open he stepped inside, "Kid?"

Nothing, only some garden hoses, rusted maintenance tools, no child.

"Raph-"

Leo's voice was cut short from the door shutting.

To Be Continued...


	13. Chapter 13

M is for Marie who was burned to a crisp.

----------------------------

When Michelangelo woke up the room was filled bathed in the deep colors of red and orange from the sunset. He leaned into the soft touch to his cheek, caressing, stroking. Blinking sluggishly he was greeted with the sight of Raphael. The kindest smile on his emerald face. Michelangelo felt his face heat up as he stared, he had no idea Raph had such a nice smile. It looked so perfect on him, washing away the rough edges that usually came with the usual hot temper.

"Raph," he moved to sit up.

He was gently pushed back down, strong hand resting on his shoulder.

Emerald lips moved, hand calmly petting as orange tried to stay awake.

"What?" Blue eyes sluggishly blinked, "I didn't... hear... you."

The last thing he remembered before he slipped back to sleep was those lips moving, Raphael repeating himself but he still couldn't hear him.

When he woke the second time it was the same time of day as his dream but Raph was not there. His body wasn't feeling so tired, his mind sharper than before. A dream, just a dream. Pulling himself out of bed he made his way out of the bedroom, his throat dry.

Mikey passed by Jack who was sitting at the foot of the stairs, eyes turned up to the top.

"Hey Jack," he bent over, running his fingers behind perky ears. "Are you trying to make sure no one else falls down the stairs again?"

As if understanding each word, the cat's ears folded back, head bowing down, big eyes looking up at Mikey as if showing guilt. It was as if he was blaming himself for Raph's fall. Strange for a cat to do.

The ninja petted his little friend, "Aw, it wasn't your fault Jack. Raph's a tough turtle, he can take a few flights of stairs." That didn't sound right. "I mean, he's tough. He's probably the one turtle, besides Leo, to not worry about. Donnie does some crazy stuff because he's **way** curious and I do some stupid stuff too. Then again Leo had a break down after Shredder nearly killed us, but he's normal now. Raph, though, he's different. He can take anything and keep going. He may not look it but he's really nice and... and why am I telling you all this?" He closed his eyes, only to have the image of that perfect smile well up. He groaned. Not only was he crazy, now he was crushing on his brother.

Jack rubbed up against Michelangelo's leg, purring loudly, paws kneading on the top of his foot.

"You should listen to Raph, don't encourage me," he lectured the small creature who only followed him when he started walking towards the kitchen once more.

Once he got his glass of water he noticed the unusual silence. No TV, no radio, there was a sever lack of family talking. A worry started to settle in his stomach until he could hear approaching voices. Opening the back door he found Leo and Don trying to talk to a disgruntled Raph. The taller teen not listening to them as he came up to the door that Mikey held open.

"I need to talk to you," he grunted passing by.

"Me?" Baby blues blinked as Raph just limped out of the kitchen. Michelangelo turned to his remaining siblings, "What's up with him?"

Leo made an irritated sound in the back of his throat, "We don't know. He won't say."

"One minute he was talking about some kid being locked up in the shed the next he tells us to forget he even mentioned it," Donatello rubbed the back of his head. "It was really weird."

"You want me to give it a try?"

The leader nodded, "Do it. But first I want to talk to you for a moment."

Taking the hint, Donnie excused himself leaving the two by themselves.

"Mikey," how was he going to phrase this. "Some... odd... things have been happening as of late, and I'm not sure what to make of it. And I can't make any real conclusions with only part of the story."

"What do you mean bro?"

"I'm not saying this right. What I mean is that I'm sorry for the other day and even though it's too late to have my apology accepted I just want you to know that you can still come to me if anything happens."

Sea-green lips pressed together, blue eyes looking down and to the side. This was a little uncomfortable for him. The sudden apology was nice and all but the way that Leo had worded it had made him feel a little off, almost like this was forced. He already knew he could go to Leo for a lot of things but with all of **this**... he didn't even want to go to Donnie for it and he was the closest they had to a psychologist that they got. If they knew that he was getting weird in the head then they wouldn't look at him the same way. They wouldn't... He didn't like finishing that thought.

He looked up when his shoulders were taken a hold of. Leo's golden-brown gaze filled with a need that Mikey couldn't identify with.

"If there is anything, anything at all just _tell_ me. Okay?"

He wanted to know? Know what was going on with him? But if he said then there was a possibility they would hate him, they wouldn't love him any more and they'd leave him by himself. Then again, Leo was his bro, and they have all been through so much together that their bound was strong. Hopefully strong enough not to break under his insanity.

"Okay." Mikey didn't like lying, even if it was a half lie. He was going to think about it, but the out come could be for or against this trust that was being placed in him. He backed away, fingers twining together nervously, "I-I gotta go talk to Raph now."

"Alright..." Leo let go of his youngest brother, not satisfied at all with the answer he got, but it would have to do for now.

Orange left the room, quickly passing by the stairs once more not noticing the black cat that was eating something at the top. Soon enough he was in his room, door closed. The light was off, the previous colors of dusk bleeding into darker hues. Raphael was sitting on the bed, slumped over, his dark eyes focused on his hands.

Silently, he came over to his side, sitting down careful not to disturb the one who was deep in thought. He waited patiently, getting the feeling he should be giving his brother some sort of bodily contact. Something was bothering him enough to contemplate and Raph didn't contemplate.

"To say," Raph's voice was soft but it sounded loud in the quiet room. "that I understand what's happenin' around here would be a cop out because I don't. And I don't need to understand when I tell you that I want you to promise me you'll never go out to the shed by the road."

"What do you mean?"

The larger of the two turned to him, hand gripping him by the elbow. The emerald ninja's voice desperate, "You can't go there, not you."

"Raph, you're beginning to freak me out."

Red bandana tails waved with a shake of a head, "I don't care. Just promise me you'll never go there."

"But-"

"Promise!" Raphael was clinging onto him now, fear painted in his gaze, "You can't go there, **not you**. I... I can't loose you."

"What?"

"I'll kill them before they can. I don't know how but I will! They ain't gettin' you!"

"You're not making any sense!"

And if the conversation wasn't confusing enough, red had quickly pulled the youngest forward pressing his lips over his own in a shaky kiss.

To Be Continued...


	14. Chapter 14

N is for Nick who was pummeled by fists.

-----------------------

He didn't know what was happening, his mind was fogged by the scent of Raphael, the feel of lips over his. The grip on his shoulder relaxed allowing him to move away, to pull back if he wanted. A part of him did, it wanted to pull back, hit his brother and demand the Raphael he knew come back. He was used to being teased, getting smacked on the shoulder and the head, not this gentleness. But then there was the other part of him, the part that was frightened and wanted the comfort. This part won in the internal war being waged in his heart. He pressed in, moving closer, hands fisting the comforter that they sat upon as he trembled.

This type of contact was new to him and by the way that his brother trembled he could tell he was not the only one that was a little scared. His heart pounded against his ribs as he resisted the urge to open his mouth and beg for more of this unknown affection. Pulling away, he watched auburn eyes.

Raph opened his mouth then closed it, not knowing what to say to the one he had just kissed. His first kiss, their first kiss, and he had done it with out thinking.

"Mike, I-I didn't mea-"

"Again."

"Huh?"

Michelangelo flicked his tongue over his lips, his shy gaze dipping to the side, cheeks burning with his sudden bashful nature, "N-never mind." He wanted another kiss so badly, but he wasn't going to rush this. If it was a mistake then he wouldn't push, but if it happened again some time later then maybe... maybe his crush wouldn't be such a crush any more. He felt a little apprehensive at that thought as well as a little excited.

"Um..." the youngest nibbled at the edge of his lip now not knowing what to do nor say. But when there was no offer from the other to break the silence he felt a little hurt. The hands on his shoulders moved, letting go. Raphael got up, moving towards the door... he was leaving. The turtle in orange grabbed his brother's elbow, "Don't go."

Red wouldn't look back at him. Raph was ashamed of himself, for doing what he had just done. Even though it was innocent in nature he felt as if he had just violated his baby brother. If he stayed then he had no idea what he would do next, and honestly he wasn't sure if he wanted to do any of that. Sure Mikey was his favorite, he was always full of laughs and stupid comments, he always had the warmest hugs and most excepting mind, but that didn't justify wanting to see what his mouth tasted like. It didn't give him permission to grab a hold and try to stake claim where he was not needed nor wanted. His stomach was churning. People have called him a monster before, now he was inclined to agree with them. What kind of beast would do something like that?

"Raphie, please... don't go."

He squeezed his eyes shut, if he turned around, if he looked back then he didn't know if he would be consumed and truly become a monster. If he left now, if he had Donnie room with Mikey and just crashed on the couch then maybe he could save what little bit of decency he had remaining.

That was what he had planned, but to be honest fate hates plans and so does destiny. Thus why plans never worked.

Michelangelo desperately didn't want his brother to leave, he knew if he left then the trust between them would be broken. A wall would be put up to keep distance and all he would be able to do would be to wait on the other side of that wall calling out to Raph until the wall crumbled. He didn't want that to happen so he said the first thing that came into his head, a threat, "If you leave I'll go to the shed!"

"NO!"

It was with in a blink of the eye, Raph had whirled around, had pinned Mikey to the bed. Bodies so close, the heat of his breath washing over his beak as the older of the two growled so deeply in his throat it almost sounded like an animal. "Never. go. there," he hissed making sure to speak slowly.

Baby blue blinked, hand coming up to grip tricep. Orange searched in those deep pools of auburn for a reason; a reason for these actions, a reason why he was so upset.

"What happened to you?" he whispered earnestly wanting to know. "In the shed, for you to act like this... you went in, but-"

Gaze softened, "You don't wanna know." Eyes began to moisten as the larger turtle leaned down, his elbow and ankle throbbing from his sudden movements just a moment ago. He tucked his head down resting his chin on shoulder, pressing his weight upon the one under him. Squeezing his eyes tight to the point they hurt he tried to tell himself that this was okay, that the arms wrapping around him wanted him there as images of what happened in the shack flashed in his mind. "You don't wanna know," he whispered once more as Michelangelo tightened his embrace.

Sea-green hands stroked and petted, trying to calm the one that above, tiny tremors shaking the body of his brother. He stared at the ceiling, brows knitted together as he found new cuts in carapace and scutes that had definitely not been there before. The odd grooves suggesting something serrated or ribbed was used. Nuzzling his cheek into Raph's he held firmly. Whatever was happening, it was going to far.

----------------------

"Hey Jack," Casey poured kibble into a brand new food dish. He gave the cat a stroke across the back as the animal greedily ate. Straightening out, he went back to the paper bags on the kitchen table, "Okay, so I got you guys more milk, eggs, butter, lunch meat, bread, juice," he paused while taking stuff out noticing only Donatello was in the room and he was having a hard time concentrating. "Everything okay Don?"

"Hm?" a brown gaze went to the human. "Oh, yeah, it's just that something Raph said is bothering me."

"Like what?"

"Well," he shifted in his seat, lacing his fingers together over the tabletop. "While you were gone he went exploring and found your old tool shed. He said that he saw a child locked inside."

"Did he get the kid out?"

"That's just the thing, there was no child inside. Raph even said that there had been a Star Wars backpack but where he pointed was nothing but grass. After he went in, we couldn't get the door open for over ten minutes, and when he came out he looked white as a ghost and insisted that we drop the subject."

Casey frowned, "Maybe he saw one himself."

"See what?"

"A ghost."

Donatello looked at his friend skeptically, "Casey, there are no such things as ghosts."

"I'm just sayin' that about ten or twelve years ago there was a murder case of some kid being found in a some sort of shack dead. It looked like he had been locked in and left there and the murderers were never found. Geez, I knew it was close to grandma's house but I didn't think it was this place."

"You're jumping to conclusions. Just because someone died doesn't mean it had to be on this very spot nor does it mean that their spirit will linger. And why is that shed so far away anyways, that's been bothering me as well."

"Oh, that's because there used to be a hedge maze here. I heard that the people who originally built the house were kind of weird and filled their whole farm land with one big maze to keep people from gettin' to the house. The maintenance shed was built out there because it was the closest to the maze entrance, or at least that's what the land blue print thingy says."

"The landscaping schematics? You have those?"

Casey nodded, "Yeah, Ma found 'em under a doll in the display case. Weird huh?"

Donatello's face scrunched as he thought, mumbling out, "Very weird."

To Be Continued...


	15. Chapter 15

O is for Olive who lived life to fast.

---------------------------

Dinner had been rather lonely with out two brothers joining at the table. April and Casey tried their best to make the meal enjoyable, but the heavy atmosphere was practically tangible despite their best efforts.

"Hey, Casey, April," Donnie looked up from the mashed potatoes he was poking at. "Do you think you could do something for me tomorrow?"

"Sure buddy, what'cha need?" Casey asked grabbing his glass of water, and taking a drink.

"I was hoping you could get some history on this place. I've got the wireless hook up on the laptop but there's only so much online. I was hoping you could talk to the previous owners, maybe even find out who originally built this house."

The redheaded woman tried to smile, "That's a bit of an odd request Don. May I ask why?"

The turtle gave a half shrug, "It's just something that Casey mentioned earlier, is all. I want to get as much information as possible before I put my theory to the test."

"Test? Like with your beakers?" The human male scratched at his head.

"Not that kind of test Casey. It's kind of... personal."

This got everyone at the table to look at him, but he didn't notice, he was still pushing around his potatoes with his fork. His mind focused on behavior of siblings, odd things told to him. He wanted to show Mikey that he could be trusted again. Show the little one that he really did care and that there was tangible proof, that he was reaching out and that it was fine to talk to him about things. He also wanted to show Raph that it was okay to talk to him as well, that he wouldn't think him crazy if he saw something as ridiculous as a ghost. There have been documented proof of spirits before, he just never had first hand experience that was all. It didn't mean that the two were going crazy or anything remotely close to that.

"We'll go in the mornin'," Casey nudge the turtle out of his thoughts. "I'll crash on the couch tonight, if that's okay with you guys."

"Sure, but where will you sleep April?" Leo spoke up.

"She can take my room and I can room with you tonight Leo," Donnie offered before Splinter could insist she take his.

"Thanks guys," the woman smiled.

----------------------------------------

He didn't know what he was seeing. It didn't make sense. It was illogical, impossible, and just plain couldn't be. He ran his fingers across the carpet amazed this was actually happening. He wanted to turn to his brother who was taking up the bed, he wanted to ask if the sword wielder could see the very images his eyes were picking up. But what if Leo didn't see it? What if only he could witness the event like some sort of mind trick? But there was no harm in asking right?

Donatello pulled his hand out of the patch of moonlight on the floor. Gently he shook his sibling's shoulder, "Leo, Leo wake up."

"Mmm? Wha'is it Donnie?" the tired turtle pushed himself up onto an elbow.

"There's something going on with the floor."

An exhausted blink, "Like what." Leo looked at the drizzling rain projected through the moonlight onto the floor. What was so weird about that?

"Leo, it isn't raining."

He was wide awake now, pushing covers to the side as he fully sat up. A look to the window showed a night sky filled with stars, a glance back to the floor and the patch of the night time light was clearly showing evidence of a storm outside. Donatello knelt down next to the patch, Leo reached out a hand, "Donnie, I don't think you should be touching that."

The brainiac smiled, happy that he wasn't the only one seeing this, but even more happy to show what he had discovered. "It's okay Leo. Check this out." He stuck his hand into the path of light, showing that the storm reflection was not showing up on his palm.

Leo grabbed his brother's wrist, pulling him away from the little section on the floor. Call it paranoia, or whatever, he just didn't like the idea of Donatello messing with something that was obviously extremely bizarre. This was a perfect time to get Master Splinter and show him some evidence, maybe then they can go to Mikey and Raph and pry out of them whatever they were holding secret.

"Donnie, I want you to get Master Splinter."

"But Leo, what if it goes away. I want to be able to make a record of the time it left and how. This is absolutely fascinating an-"

"And Sensei needs to see this, go and get him. I'll keep an eye on it and the time for you."

"O-kay," he sounded dejected as he made his way out of the room giving the odd patch of light one last look.

The knowledge that Donatello was actually going to document this was a rather disturbing thought. The leader did not like that at all. Whatever this was, it was meant to be left alone and not poked and prodded. The turtle to do just that was his little, overly curious, brother. The only reason why the olive ninja was so smart was due to how curious he was, he would stick his hand into a running blender just to see what it would feel like to be puréed if he didn't know better, but thankfully he wasn't the reckless type of curious or they would have a brother with a lot less limbs.

He sighed, looking around and finding a pen, he didn't have any paper on hand so he'd improvise and just write on his palm the information Donatello was worried he'd miss out on.

The sound of running pulled his attention from the floor to the door that swung open, Donatello darting in and slamming the door as quickly as possible.

"Don?"

"It's right behind me, right-AH!"

The door bent as something slammed against it, the wood groaning from trying to keep its original straight shape. The knob was forcefully twisted, something slamming into it once more prying the door open an inch. Donatello braced his weight against the wood as Leo rushed over to help him. Leo pressed hard with all his might, muscles straining only managing to get the door to budge not even half the distance that it had been forced open to. The door was slammed again, this time getting it open another two inches.

Wanting to know what they were up against, Leo peered around the edge. He felt his blood run cold as the wide eyes turned up, the color of flickering candle-light, shifting from dim yellow to bright orange. Teeth, curling into a twisted smile in the pitch black dark. The mouth gaped open, the face turning and snuggling up to the other side of the door a voice that he could not identify wafting out, "Good child, where is the good child full of drink?"

The face started to move as if a head was bobbing in the dark, "Drink, I want to drink, drink."

When Leo didn't answer, the creature slammed into the door once more, fingers long like tentacles with bone began to wrap around the edge. Training kicked in, raising the pen that was still in his hand he stabbed at one of the fingers, the creature making a guttural laugh as the pen passed through it and burst on the corner of the door. The laughter was drowned out by the yowling growl of a cat. The face pulled back and dipped down to the point it was almost touching the ground, hand retreating from the door. A rumble that shook the floor erupted before the face turned and disappeared. The deepest darkness leaving the hallway.

Just as the two ninja slammed the door, Leo caught the sight of Jack running past, hissing as he swiped a paw.

To Be Continued...


	16. Chapter 16

P is for Patty who swallowed some glass.

------------------------------

Burning, everything was burning. Screams all around as he stumbled between the walls of fire pulling at the robe that was torn on his body. He didn't know why he was wearing it, only that it was the last remaining protection his body had. Tears ran down his face as he coughed and choked on the ash that floated in the sky like gray and black snowflakes. His knees trembled as he squeezed them together sending a jolt of pain from the secret area that should not be touched with out permission. Deep grooves left by fingernails allowed streaks of red to slide down his knees, dribbling down his shins to the ground. Bending over, he spilled out whatever was in his stomach. Once he was done he continued to stumble. He wanted out, out of this hellish place.

"What have you done?!" the voice of a man bellowed over the roar of the flames. "What- What have you **done**?!"

That voice, that voice would hurt him again, like before. It would force itself into him, destroy another piece of his soul. Unless... he looked to one of the burning hedges. Unless there was nothing for him to take.

Michelangelo woke up, knees clamped together as he shook from the feeling his body was over whelmed with. The area between his legs throbbed in pain, his legs burned as if cut. He was too afraid to reach down, to run a hand over his thigh to make sure that he was unharmed. He couldn't shake the feeling of being violated. Taking a hold of his pillow he rolled onto his back, startled eyes watching the ceiling as he shivered.

"Mikey?"

The youngest held onto a pillow, trying to even out his breathing, legs starting to strain from how tightly he was squeezing them together.

The emerald brother pushed himself up, the pain in his elbow dull and forgotten as he took in the sight of the one who had just woken from a nightmare. He wanted to reach over, to touch him, to hold him, but by the way that Mikey had jerked when he had moved -he was pretty sure he should wait.

"Mikey, what's wrong?"

Quivering lips took in a sharp sip of breath, "He-he held me down... I couldn't get him off, and... and he spread my legs," tears were rolling down from eyes that stared at the ceiling.

"What?" the growl was so deep it could have vibrated the bed. "Who did?!" he demanded.

He gasped out a sob, "I don't know."

Raphael got up, pulling blankets away from their legs. His mind was filling with anger by the minute. It wouldn't have been the first time if he had slept through his brother getting in and out of bed. The mere idea of sleeping while his brother, **his** Michelangelo being- Wait, deep breath, just think. Who did he know that was here in this house that would do such a thing? No one. Not one unless Mikey went outside again and- He was going to **kill** the bastard!

"So I burned his hedges."

That caused Raph to pause. Burned his hedges? What did that mean? There were no hedges around here. Upon further inspection he could see that Mikey wasn't talking about something that had happened to him physically. The look in those tear filled blue eyes showed that he was reliving his nightmare during waking moments.

"He tried to get me again..."

Large hands took hold of the turtle on his back, the youngest gave a scream and started to struggle. His legs kicked out, hands thrashing as he tried to get away. Raphael held on, pulling him closer, holding onto him calling his name to wake him from his waking nightmare. He was screaming, the back of his hand smacked across Raph's face.

"It's okay, Mikey, it's only me! Mikey!"

The door opened, Splinter hurrying in from hearing the commotion. The light from the hallway filtering into the room. Gray hands quickly snatched a wrist preventing another blow, "Michelangelo!" Then with a quick slap from his father, the youngest woke fully. His body trembling with each and every breath he took in the dark room.

"Raph?" he looked from brother to father, "Master, I..."

"It was a dream my son," his father let go of his wrist, hand stroking his head reassuringly. "Just a bad dream."

The young turtle saw the blossoming red welt on Raphael's face, "Raph did I- I didn't mean to. I'm sorry." He went to touch the injury but stopped himself half way.

"It's okay," the largest of the three in the room let his sibling go, sitting back Indian style. "You were scared."

"Come," Splinter sat down on the edge of the bed. "Tell us what this nightmare was."

This was common, if dear o' dad had heard that any of his boys had a nightmare then he would always sit and wait for them to tell him all about it. Then he could tell them that there was nothing to fear, that it was only a dream and the fear they had felt would go away after a nice cup of tea.

"I..." Michelangelo moved, so he was sitting and his legs were curled up. "I don't want to."

"If you keep it bottled up it will only create negative energies my son."

"I just... I don't... want to tell _you_."

Old eyes looked hurt, as their father nodded, "Very well."

All of the sudden there was the sound of running, harsh crashing and thumps coming from upstairs. Forgetting about his dream, Michelangelo uncurled. "What was that?" he asked looking up as another thump came.

"Something that we shouldn't be sitting here on our shells waitin' for to leave," Raph quickly got up, wincing at the shock of pain in his ankle as he started to make way to the door.

"You wait here with Michelangelo, I will go see," Splinter instructed as he ran out of the room.

Hurrying up the steps he heard the door to Leo's room slam shut, Jack at the end of the hallway growling with his eyes fixated on the wall.

To Be Continued...


	17. Chapter 17

Q is for Quinten who took the wrong trail.

--------------------

Splinter was at a loss, he didn't know what to do with his sons. They held everything secret ever since they came to that house, and what they did tell him it never made sense. Something brushing up against the bed, a face suspended in the shadows; it all sounded like nightmares to him. But the nightmares in dreamscape he knew his sons were getting were never told, they were bottled up tighter. Thus why he insisted on accompanying April and Casey. While they talked to people, he could sneak into courthouses, sealed off rooms at libraries, everywhere that their human friends could not go that held potential records.

If this was the only way to get a solid answer to the grief and troubles his family was being lead through, then he was going to get it.

-------------------------

Raph was sitting on the porch with Michelangelo, both wrapped up in their own blanket protecting them from the cold. Leonardo had brought them blankets, and decided to go search the forest for some fire wood with Donatello. The leader had promised a jittery Michelangelo a hotdog and marshmallow roast, and even though there was no fire place it didn't mean they couldn't build a fire outside. And for the first time that day Mikey looked at him and smiled, he said that he would like that. If Mikey wanted it then he was going to get it! Plus he was craving hotdogs cooked over a fire as well.

Jack ran across the yard, pouncing on something and stuffing it into his mouth.

"Shouldn't he be cold? He's as naked as a human baby," Raph grunted watching the feline mess with something in the grass.

"If he gets cold he'll come over, Klunk's the same way. I'm just glad he doesn't look like someone threw fake skin over a skeleton anymore."

"With how much he eats, he'll be obese."

Mikey didn't reply to that, just watched his four legged friend play around as he leaned over and rested his head on Raph's shoulder. It was a comfortable silence, neither rushing to ask or say anything. Squirming his hand free from a fold of blanket, he found an emerald hand to hold.

"I'm still sorry for hitting you."

"For the tenth time, Mikey, it's okay. You were freaked out, if I had a dream like that I'd probably have hurt the person -tryin' to wake me- worse."

The sea-green turtle leaned a bit more, turning his beak to lay a kiss for the third time that day on the spot he had slapped. He really didn't mean to hurt anyone, and when he learned that he had slapped Raph he felt so bad. He couldn't apologize enough, but for Raphael, it was okay. He was... he was a forgiving person.

"Can I ask you about your dream?" red pulled back a bit so there was a few inches between them when he turned his head to face the ever so affectionate terrapin. "I understand if you don't want to."

"It's okay."

Raph turned his face away, gaze more in favor of looking at their holding hands than looking into those eyes as china blue as the sky. He felt his throat clench at the question he wanted to ask since he had first realized that Mikey was having a nightmare. It wasn't a question he should be asking. In fact he had no right at all to even ask permission to ask this one thing.

Sensing his apprehension, orange squeezed the hand that was held in his palm, "Raph?"

"I'm sorry, I just..." he shook his head trying to steel his nerves. "I just need to know one thing."

"What?"

"Did," he turned his head away as he choked it out. "Did you feel yourself being raped?"

God he was scum! How could he ask such a thing?!

"No, only the result after."

A sigh of relief that he didn't even know he was holding.

"Were you scared that I did?"

Raph turned back snorting, "No, maybe a little concerned but-" a skeptical look, "just a little."

"I scared you last night."

"Who wouldn't be when they wake up next to you and you're acting like you were just-just, you know."

To say "rape" actually made Raphael's stomach churn with unease. Just asking the question if Michelangelo had felt it at all made him want to throw up. It was disgusting. No one should ever have to live through such a thing.

"Raph?" Mikey's voice was soft and quivered a little as he let go of his brother's hand, taking hold of the fabric encompassing Raphael, "You'll... make sure that never happens, right? Because I never want to be taken like that, not like that."

Auburn eyes hardened, "I give you my word Mikey. I won't let that happen to you, not Leo and not Don. None of you will go through that as long as I breathe."

Michelangelo carefully leaned in, lips softly pressing against corner of the mouth in a chaste second kiss before he bowed his head and pulled himself closer so that he could hug his protector.

------------------------

"I'm just saying, Leo, that maybe we should tell Master Splinter about that face you saw," Donatello grabbed another thick stick to add to the pile he had balanced in one arm. "Maybe he could identify what it was."

"Donnie, can we talk about this later? Please? I don't really feel like talking about it."

"Then what do you want to talk about," the other huffed. "Maybe we should just talk about the weather and totally forget the fact that finally Raph told us this morning that the reason why he fell down the stairs was because he felt something grab his ankle. No, not just something it was a **hand** Leo, a hand. He didn't trip, someone grabbed him and made him fall. Or should we completely forget that Mikey had a dream last night about being **RAPED**!!" Donatello threw down the bundle of wood he had, breathing heavy through clenched teeth, "Maybe we can just talk about how stupid and useless I am while my little brothers are left to fend for themselves because I can't do anything for them."

Leonardo reached over, arms wrapping around shoulders pulling the frustrated mechanic into a hug, "Don't blame yourself Don." He squeezed his eyes shut as Donatello began to cry. He too felt like his world was crumbling down around him. The leader was just as useless, no, even more so. At least the turtle in purple was trying to gather information, all he could do was sit there and practically say that everyone's crazy when he knew better. All that was happening was surreal, as if it was nothing but a bad dream. But bad dreams themselves could feel like reality; being the reason why none of them would tell Splinter, Casey, or April about the dream that was told to them after the aforementioned group had left for the day.

"It's okay," he patted shell comfortingly. "Everything'll be alright."

And he would make sure that it would.

To Be Continued...


	18. Chapter 18

R is for Rienna who rotted in jail.

---------------------------

Leo didn't know how to help besides take a turn in researching events that could have transpired on the land that Casey had purchased. He sat next to Raph on the porch as Mikey and Don shifted around, talking about miscellaneous things. They were trying to patch up their relationship. Even though it was hard for the nun-chuck loving ninja to forgive the fact that the trust in him faltered -he was still willing to reach out. Donatello was more than eager to meet him halfway; he wanted to reassure his brothers that even though he could make stupid mistakes such as doubting them it didn't mean that he did not love and trust them.

"You feeling okay?" blue asked not even glancing over to the one that was beside him; a feeling inside telling that he should interact.

"I'm fine," came the grunted reply as blanket was pulled tighter.

"Something's on your mind."

Yeah, there was, but how was he supposed to tell his older brother that he was in love with their little brother and the more time he spent alone with him the more it was driving him crazy. He wanted to hold Mikey and never let him go, he wanted to kiss him more and more, and god forbid some of the other not-so-innocent things he wanted to do if the relationship deepened. Everything was going fast and during a situation that he had no control over. He couldn't get a clear thought in, and most of the things he did now was just instinct. Instinct to soften, instinct to try and protect.

Red gave a long and heavy sigh, if he didn't say anything then Leo would pry and well, he wasn't ready yet to admit that he was becoming a sick freak infatuated with Michelangelo. So he came up with the second thing that was bothering him, "You know that dream Mikey and I had before we came here?"

"What about it?" That caught the sword wielder's attention, pulling his eyes from the small screen, fingers halting over the keys of the laptop.

"I think..." the emerald turtle rubbed at the back of his head nervously. This was a far-fetched idea and most likely would make no connection, but still it couldn't hurt to try and explore that one avenue, "I think there might be somethin' related between the dreams, the one he had last night and the one before we came here. I don't wanna sound like Sensei or you for that matter but what if it was some sort of premonition."

"It's possible," Donatello's soft voice startled the two.

The olive skinned ninja held a stick that was smoldering on the end after poking the newly started fire. His attention had been drawn over when he heard Leo asking if everything was alright. He listened in as the two focused on the conversation on hand. A tap on the shoulder pulled Mikey away from the flames that were trying to put themselves out in the cold air, not willing to eat the dry wood.

The opportunity had presented itself, and he was going to take it. This was a perfect time for them to start to reveal their secrets to each other. Even his; the patch of summer-rain reflected on the floor, the creature that had chased him back into Leo's room. He hadn't told anyone about it and far as he knew neither had Leo.

"You had the same dream?" Mikey looked more than a little frustrated at Raph, "And you didn't tell me?"

"You were already giving yourself second degree burns Mike, like I was gonna add to that," red eyes rolled.

"Yeah but they've healed now," he waved his un-bandaged hand that had been free of confines for only two days.

"That's not the point here guys," Leo butted into their building squabble. "The point is, we've all been hiding one thing or another from each other. We need to come clean, and connect the dots or bad things will keep happening."

Donatello turned back to the fire, stirring it once more to make sure it wouldn't go out, "He's right. So maybe I should hold off on my theory until we tell each other what's been happening."

"That means from the beginning Mikey," the leader fixed a determined gaze on the baby of the family.

"But I..." he sighed, everyone looking at him expectantly. "Fine, but don't think I'm crazy because I already know I am."

He took a deep breath and began before anyone could speak up to counter the point of sanity.

"It was like a week ago, before we came here, maybe two weeks. It started off as bad dreams of a dark hole with a light at the top and no matter what I couldn't get out. Other dreams were like I was being dragged across the floor by my ankle and I couldn't fight back as I was pulled into the shadows, or being locked away in a tiny room and I couldn't get out. But the dreams would go away if I snuck into one of you guys' rooms and crashed there for the night. But then it started to get kind of weird with shadows moving around out in the corner of my eye, some times I would hear whispers, and um... then came the singing."

"It didn't ask for 'drink' did it?" Leo asked felling uneasy, the odd face flashing in his mind.

"Drink? Where did you hear that?"

"Never mind, just go on."

"But-"

"We'll get to it eventually, just keep going."

A frustrated sound in the back of the throat, "Fine, there was singing, and it wouldn't go away." He hated being dismissed like that, he really hated it. He took a calming breath, instinctively finding a warm spot to sit next to Raphael, "And when it wouldn't go away I started to loose sleep and... well I started to get out of hand and that's when I started to freak out."

Donatello put a hand to his chin in thought, then asked, "Do you know what was being sung?"

"I'd rather not say right now," the youngest was busying himself with finding a way into Raph's blanket seeking the warmth more for comfort than for reasons of being cold. His own blanket was being sat on by his eldest sibling.

The purple clad turtle patted his brother on the head when the squirmy turtle finally settled down electing a grunt from the one he was sharing covers with. He understood that some things needed to be omitted, there were going to be a lot of things that would be hard to say and at the moment he could tell it was taking a lot of courage to just say this much. Michelangelo, out of all of the family, sought out attention. He wanted to be approved of, accepted and anything that threatened his standing with his family was a threat. It resulted in two reactions from the youth; one -he became defensive, two -he bottled up whatever negative emotion he was feeling and tried to act as if he was not hurting inside. Talking to them about this was away of opening up that bottle and he didn't want to have it closed too soon.

Leo understood this as well, "So, that's why you got into that fight with Raph?"

A meek nod, "Sorry."

"Stop bein' stupid and get on with it," Raph leaned his weight against Mikey, his way of saying that it was already forgiven and preferred to be forgotten.

It was silent for a while before Michelangelo seemed to wilt with every breath he took. He didn't want to tell the rest, but if he didn't then... then he didn't know what but he knew it was best to spill the whole truth. And so he did, he talked about the thing outside, described it in great detail. He told about how when he went into the shower there was nothing on his arm but he could feel something there as if a slimy wetness was there and how Raph had to calm him down before he could scrub himself raw.

He told about the strange tentacle thing that flopped over his thigh that night Leo was with him, told about the odd silhouette in the forest when he found Jack. One story flowed into another, swiftly, twining together like a gruesome tail told to ward the curious away. By the end dusk was coloring the sky, his voice dying away from telling the last story he had that consisted of the face in the darkness.

He couldn't look at them, their eyes all watching him. He was so certain they thought he was a complete lunatic. The youngest curled in on himself. Not even Raph would love him after all of this.

A sharp pain to the back of his head forced him to uncurl, he rubbed at the sore spot, "What was that for?!" he demanded looking at the one who had just hit him. Surprisingly it wasn't Raphael it was Donatello.

"You-" the mechanic shook, lips quivering as he tried to keep his cool. "You really do have cheese for a brain!"

"What?!"

"Donnie's right, Mikey," Leo had gotten up to stand next to their gentler brother. "You shouldn't have kept that secret. You should have told us from the beginning."

"What is wrong with you guys?! I'm crazy, not some sort of person you should take in and say, 'he'll be okay after he gets some sleep'. I could snap and kill you in your sleep with how screwed up my head is!" This time it was Leo who smacked him, but on the shoulder this time, "OW! Stop hitting me!"

"That was for being dumb and not telling us," he raised his hand and swatted his brother again, lighter this time. "And that's for thinking you'd kill us."

"But what if I did?"

"Mikey," Donatello sat down on the other side of Michelangelo, pulling him into a hug. "You'd never let it happen. We all know you're too strong to break like that."

Another arm wrapped around him, Raph leaning in to join the embrace himself, "Right, so stop being a cheese ball."

"Listen to them," Leonardo smiled softly.

The smile fading as he let his mind mull over what Michelangelo had just told them. The moment of tenderness crushed when he mumbled out, "But don't let down your guard. Whatever was calling you 'good child' is looking for you."

To Be Continued...


	19. Chapter 19

S is for Steve who was shot with a bow.

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"Okay, so far we've got a freaky thing with the floor, some small black things that ran off with Leo's mask and elbow pad, wicked nasty dreams, a girl with a hole in the head, a freaky doll that blinks when it can't, a shed where some kid was killed in, and a whole mess of things that tell me that I ain't sleeping alone for the rest of my life," Mikey counted off. "Now we know this place had a freaky hedge maze?! Can we go home and just leave a note on the door for Splinter, and the others?"

"You know we can't do that," Donnie shifted nervously, glancing over his shoulders feeling less than safe.

The forest green leader folded his arms over his chest, "Hold it, we haven't had the full story yet."

"What else do you want to hear? We shouldn't be here, plain and simple Leo," Mikey agreed.

"Raph."

The ninja in orange felt the body stiffen next to him. Blue eyes turned to the turtle who set his strong jaw, eyes growing cold. His crush shook his head slowly, showing he was not going to say anything.

"Raphie?" Don's and Mike's voices resonated together as they peered at their brother.

"Come on Raph, you told us about how you fell, but what happened in the shack?" Leo unfolded one arm and held out his hand showing he meant no harm.

A dog howled in the distance as the four brothers remained silent, three desperately wanting to know what had happened. A wind, thick and cold more of crawled across the land than blew. The fire struggling to spread light in the dying hours of the day. A roll of thunder telling another fall storm was moving close, clouds racking across the sky like wisps of cloth.

As they waited, Raphael tried to think of how to word all of it, how to tell a secret that should be silenced on the tongue. Everyone had something to see, everyone had something to feel. They could tell what had happened, they could hear it and feel the texture of the creatures that they had encountered. But him...

"_Give me something to play with."_

He closed his eyes at the memory. He didn't hear the voice, it was more of like a thought that was not his, like something was invading and pressing his consciousness away.

_"You're not him, not him, not him. You smell like him, just like him. All over... all over."_ The thoughts echoed in itself, folding over tapering off into muddled confusion.

A hand, gently placed on his elbow that had yet to be removed from its sling, "Raph?"

He didn't look to the one in front of him, he didn't have to -to see that Leo was concerned or see the expression painted in his voice. Raphael slid his hand over the sling, squeezing hard getting the pain to over come his self doubt. They had all shared, he needed to as well.

"Some things, you can't see," he said, fingers coming up to the tie to the side. "It invades your head; in your mind, your eyes." The sound of fabric sliding as he worked on the knot, "And you can't tell if it's your thoughts or someone else's, until the pain starts to dig in pullin' you away from it all -makin' it feel like you just woke from a bad dream."

There was an audible whimper that erupted from Donatello as Michelangelo pulled back, hands over his mouth, eyes wide. Leo's tawny eyes glistening with the sudden evidence presented. The grooves were deep, awkward stitches of stained thread keeping skin together that was puffed and swollen, ointment glistening in fire light. Most of the forearm and elbow sporting the crisscross off scored flesh.

Raphael deftly reached down, unwrapping his ankle from the brace he insisted on putting on himself instead of Donatello taking care of it. He continued to speak in a detached voice, "But you realize that it wasn't a dream when you can hear the shouts of your brothers out side, tryin' to help. The cries of a child, blood and glass in the air as you relive everythin' that had ended someone's life. You don't know it, until you feel something cut off and empty out of ya."

The bandage fell, the hand print bruise clearly visible -a deeper, ugly purple color-, crescent shaped cuts at the tips of each finger. He had been grabbed again, pulled around while his shell was attacked, as he held up his arm to protect himself while being slashed at by something he couldn't see.

Donatello and Leonardo had wondered why he had rushed out, why he had kept pace in front of them, not stopping when he pushed past Mikey and hurried away from them. It was to conceal the damage. He had been trying to act normal, he had sown his own stitches in the deepest cuts.

"That's why I don't want ya to go there Mike, I don't want any of you to go there," he flexed out his arm, the stitches pulling. The wound presenting itself to the brothers that had forgotten how to breathe. "It ain't safe there. I didn't say anythin' because I didn't want..." Didn't want them to freak out, didn't want them to rush into the shed and try to find the source that had attacked him. He wanted them safe, away from the boy that cried and screamed while something cried out for something to play with as it clawed and chewed.

Leonardo opened his mouth and closed it shut; a rage settling in his gut. He didn't know what to say. This was completely different from what had happened to them. They had only the experience of something chasing them, giving them dreams of the past, or just giving them a spook. This was an attack, this was not tolerable.

-------------------------

"Hey April, look at this," Casey moved the book over on the table they sat at.

"Casey," the woman sighed heavily. "Didn't I say not to bother me while I'm busy?" She put down the pencil she had been holding, ten pieces of paper already written out in her fine penmanship, "Don needs to know all of this, and that place you and your mother bought his chalk full of freaky accidents and disappearances. It's no wonder why you got it so cheap."

"But babe, this is really weird," he tapped a finger down on a picture. "There was nothin' to read around here but borin' stuff. So I pulled off a book that was about witches, and look."

Green eyes blinked surprised at the photo, "That's..."

"It says here, that while New York was first bein' settled that some occult dudes were goin' around and killin' people for rituals and that the last one caught said that they're job would be done when a man with the sun symbol came to the land," Casey shifted feeling uneasy. "And, uh, that's the symbol."

"That's not right," April took up the book, squinting at it trying to find any abnormalities that would not match her memory. "That's just..."

As if to dash her hope of it not being true, her boyfriend said sternly, "It's the same pattern on Mike's shell."

To Be Continued...


	20. Chapter 20

T is for Torri who froze in the snow.

--------------------

Tooth brushes and cups clattered to the floor, glass breaking as Leonardo leaned over the sink breathing hard. Just suddenly reaching over and lashing out helped cool the raising temper deep inside him. He had volunteered to find something to help Donatello properly bandage the wounds. They had gone inside, staying together as a group, until he ventured into the bathroom separating himself from his brothers.

The madness that was happening; he couldn't do anything about it. All he could do was tell them that everything would be okay. He was seriously thinking about calling Splinter and telling him that they were going home, but what guarantee did he have that whatever was here could not follow them? Mikey had nightmares at home, it all started up there.

He bowed his head choking out a sob, he had never been so useless in his life. He could always offer help before, even if he was not there with them physically, he was there with them through their training together. They had learned so many lessons from one another that no matter where they went they would still have the spirit of their family with them. But this, he had not training in.

His meditation only told him that there was nothing there, his body instinctively telling him that there was, and his very soul becoming scared and wishing to hold onto Splinter's teachings and recite it like some passage in the bible to ward the bad things away. But reciting the bible held no meaning for someone who was raised with out religion.

There was a knock on the door, a twist of the knob. The hinges creaked as Mikey peered in, face etched with every emotion that Leo was bottling up; rage, grief, worry.

"You okay bro?" He came in, picking up broken glass and discarded toothbrushes.

When Leo didn't answer, Michelangelo smiled sadly to himself, "I know what you're goin' through."

"Sure."

"You're right. I'm ignorant towards being useless, for being a burden on the guy that I love," a sarcastic reply for a sarcastic statement.

"We all love him Mikey, and we're all pretty useless and being burdens to each other right now," Leo rubbed at his face. "This is stupid, all of this is just... stupid."

The sound of glass being thrown into the trash bin was loud forcing him to look at the youngest. "No Leo. I mean, I love him," and before Leonardo could react Michelangelo reached over, opening the cupboard under the sink and pulled out a large first aid kit. "You can think of me sick or whatever, but if none of you want to go home then we better _fucking_ figure something out because I ain't willing to have this happen again to him or anyone else."

For the young turtle to say something like that, to speak profanely, he was livid. And if this was any other given situation he might have thought that Mikey was a little cracked in the head, that he was a little sick. The situation wasn't different though, and he found himself understanding a little why a co-dependence could develop into a deep bound such as love. The need to be reassured, the need to have something good happen in a confusing -cold- world...

He reached out grabbing his brother who turned to return his gaze.

"You and Raph..." He couldn't say he was okay with it, he couldn't say that he didn't like it either. So he opted to say what his heart told him, "I can accept it in time."

Michelangelo's lips tugged up into a little smile, "Thank you."

When they got out of the bathroom, the went to the kitchen where Donatello was busy cutting out stitches. Raphael not making a sound as he watched Jack dart around in a circle trying to catch his tail with batting paws.

"You'd think that he'd be kind of freaking out as well," Raph grumbled as thread was pulled carefully out of him.

"Maybe he doesn't have a reason to be scared," the soft soul of the family didn't look up from his work.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, maybe the ancient Egyptians had something going there with their beliefs in the cat. They believed that the cats had the ability to keep spirits from coming into our world and keep in the spirit realm. Maybe Jack isn't upset because he knows that these things will ru... oh my," Donatello sat up from his hunched over position.

"What? I know that look Don," Raph was feeling for the first time a building hope.

"Did I mention that Leo said he saw Jack chase the thing off when he and I were trying to close the door to his room?"

An auburn eye twitched in aggravation, "No, you guys failed to tell us about that one."

"Yeah," Mikey nudged Leo with his elbow while putting down the first aid kit beside Donatello.

"That's not all, Jack's been hanging around the stairs ever since Raph fell. What if Jack isn't oblivious, and this may sound crazy but- what if he knows what's going on?"

"That's not too crazy," orange rummaged through the kit pulling out disinfectants and cotton swabs. "The other day he was at the stairs and I asked him if he was trying to keep people from falling down and he looked like he understood completely. Kind of like he was blaming himself for what happened to Raph."

Leo frowned a little, "Wouldn't that mean that Jack knows what's going on here?"

The room fell silent as everyone looked to the cat whom was currently licking between his legs.

Raphael blanched, "Are you suggesting we have him as our saving grace?"

Donatello kind of felt a bit of his hope falter as well as the cat cleaned a certain area that they all didn't want to see. He made a face showing he was mildly disgusted, "Maybe."

Michelangelo on the other hand was used to Klunk licking naughty bits practically on him while he read comics. So he was not one bit phased to pick up the cat and hold him out at arms length a genuine grin on his face, "Jack-ie, you're gonna keep us safe right?"

The room filled with a very deep purr.

To Be Continued...


	21. Chapter 21

U is for Uork who was trampled by hoofs.

-----------------------

April felt her stomach churn as she sat in the back of her van with Casey and Splinter. Their findings disturbing to say the least. Not only did the person who had first built a house on the property belong to that cult that Casey found out about there were several cases of... misconduct. Reaching far back the original owner had died of tuberculosis, the place remained empty for a long time, people too paranoid to take it due to the witch craft rumored to have taken place in a cave hidden in the forest around the property. Because of this, when a famine hit, many bodies were buried there in mass graves. It had been described as someone digging a hole deep and narrow like an oubliette to slide bodies down into, records pointed to how a few workers had fallen down inside. Most were fished out, a few were not as lucky due to the weakness in starving bodies.

It only got worse, the next person who had come into possession of the land had torn down the original house, building a new one and covered the area with a hedge maze. A doctor back in the 1930's who had two assistances. He conducted experiments for two years, claiming to be working on a cure for TB during the mass epidemic that was spotted around the United States at the time. The experiments were cruel and painful, the hedge maze placed for those who wished to leave.

The tall bushes held walls that were long and winding preventing escape. There had been a small building made for the doctor to do his foul deeds, his assistances would take a secret path to bring his victims to him. When he was found out and sentenced to death, the police had found over a hundred bodies buried under the hedge maze.

The state got a hold of the house after that, a bank tried to sell it but no one would buy. It was soon rented out to several families that quickly moved out with in a month's time. Eventually it fell into the hands of a man who was crazed by what he called, "the Cheshire cat" ghost. He listened to it calling for, "drink", and would bring unsuspecting people into the house. Let them run in the maze before catching them and cutting them up to boil in a pot and dump in the surrounding forest. He would leave the blood out in an iron pot in the maintenance shed by the road. He was caught after a female victim -who was raped repeatedly- set fire to the maze. The coroner's report estimated that she committed suicide by letting herself be burned with the hedges.

The house once again remained empty for a very long time until another family moved in, with in a month the mother had taken a shot gun from a gun case and killed her husband, and two daughters. She then threw herself down the stairs, snapping her neck in the tumble. The police report said that if it had not been raining that night then the children would have been on a trip with their father and the woman would have most likely have killed only herself in her mental break.

Then there was twelve years ago where a boy was found dead in the shed, evidence presented in the case file suggested that local bullies pulled a prank too far.

"This makes me want to throw up," April carefully smoothed out the papers they had gathered together.

"It makes me wish Ma and me looked at this place's history," Casey felt like he needed spill the content of his stomach.

Splinter looked from one friend to the other, "I believe it makes me worried for my sons."

"Let's call them," the redhead pulled out her shell cell. A few buttons pressed and she had it up to her ear, waiting for it to ring. Her fine brows knitted together. She hung up and tried again. This time her expression turned hard.

"What is it Miss O'Neil?"

"Either the guys have all turned off their shell cells, or I'm not picking up a signal."

"Not pick up a signal?" Casey felt a cold sensation spread in his belly, "But that never happens."

"I know."

"Then we go to them," Splinter moved to the front taking his seat in the passenger side, strapping down his seat belt. "Mr. Jones, I believe your driving skills will be required for the speed we must hasten in."

Casey took the keys offered to him by April. Going up, he snapped the seat belt in place, waited for April to be safely buckled in her own seat before sticking the key into the ignition and peeling rubber out of the parking lot.

--------------------------

"Okay, so we've surmised that Mikey's the one that's 'full of drink'. But what is this, drink?" Donatello tied the bandage on Raph's arm much more satisfied with the healing process now that everything was properly cleaned and taken care of.

"Energy?" Leo offered standing next to the back door waiting for Jack to come back in. The cat needed to go out to 'use the litter box' so to speak. "We all know that Mikey's got a substantial amount of chi stored away. What if this thing wants that energy for itself?"

"Then how would it 'drink'?"

"Not sure, but the first folklores of vampires described mist like creatures that would sit on the chest and suck out people's breath taking away years off their life. Maybe it's something like that."

"What if it has to drink his blood, or maybe even something soft like an organ?"

Michelangelo didn't look too healthy while his brother's talked about the potential things this creature would do to him if it got its claws wrapped around him. He pressed harder on the massage he was giving Raph's foot, one hand keeping the cold compress over the bruise to help reduce swelling. He knew they were just theorizing, just wondering what could happen. Soon they would move onto how they could prevent it, but hearing them talking about it like it was perfectly normal was more than a little disturbing to him.

The foot in his hand flexed, pulling his attention to the one who was using his lap as a footstool. Raphael offered a smile, soft and perfect like from his dream with the sunset. He felt his heart skip a beat, this was a smile that was meant only for him. His own special something to treasure for all his years.

"Don't worry about it."

Blue eyes widened, "Huh?"

"I said, don't worry about it." The smile dropped for a confused look, "Somethin' the matter?"

That was it, that was what Raph was telling him in his dream. Those words he couldn't hear were just spoken unto him and it started to push that coldness in his stomach to the side for a heat that spread to his cheeks. He smiled shaking his head. There was something reassuring there; connecting dream with reality. And at that moment he really did feel like everything would end up just fine.

"Geez, what is taking that cat so long?" Leo stepped through the door he was posted sentry at.

The door slammed shut on its own.

To Be Continued...


	22. Chapter 22

V is for Venessa who fell of a roof.

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Horror, in the movies it was portrayed as gore. Intestines pulled out from a cage of bone and skin, muscles cut and limbs severed. On the news, abuse of the body- gang violence, police chases, domestic disturbances- where always the definition. But in real life, what was horror? Was it the screaming and yelling of bad parents and abusive siblings? Was it the possibility that someone could snatch you off of the streets while you were all alone?

Everyone had their own definition of horror. For Leo, it was the slam of a door, the rattling of knob. Donatello's palm slapping against the small window, his voice muffled from being on a side that he could not reach. His name being called worriedly.

"Leo-Leo get Jack!" It was so hard to hear the voice of his brother.

"Stay with Raph and Mike!" He shouted the order as loud as he could, not sure if his own voice would be just as quiet on the other side.

His heart began to hammer in his chest as he darted off in the shroud of night. His brain did not register to check windows and the front door, he was going on what Donatello told him. That was how he usually worked. The turtle in purple would tell him one thing and he would formulate it into a plan, right now the plan was to get a cat that was dark as any patch of shadow. Right at that moment he had wished there was some moonlight, but the building storm was threatening to spill rain above, blotting out the moon and its subtle grace.

"Jack!" He called out, "Here, kitty! Mikey needs you to come to Leo, come on kitty-kitty."

He twisted and turned, desperate to find the cat that was no bigger than his own shin. Something was trying to separate him from his brothers, something that he had told himself he would protect them from. He wasn't about to go back on that promise, and if a bald black cat was the key to keeping his word then a bald black cat he would find even if he had to comb the whole property.

"Jack!-oof!"

Leo's foot caught on something threading in and out of the earth. He caught himself before he could fall. Funny, he didn't think there were any roots around like that in this area.

Twisting around he found nothing, not a root, not a rock, nor stump. There had been nothing there to catch up his feet and cause him to stumble.

Crouching down, he ran a hand across the dried grass and dirt confirming that there truly was nothing at all. A gentle wind blew, the sounds of leafs rustling as they were picked up and tossed about. There was a hollow sound to it though, no echo, only void of nature. Clouds pushed along the sky, gray and black thinning out giving a pocket to celestial light. Leo looked up, eyes taking in the ill omen of a red moon.

Hands took hold of his arm, yanking him up at an angle, latex gloved hands digging into his skin. He pulled trying to break free but the hold was solid and only squeezed down even harder. Leo moved to pull out one of his katana only to have his other arm grabbed by hands just has strong, just as painful. A panick arose in him, these were the men from his brothers' dream. These were the ones that took them down a wall of green into a darkness of unknown.

The sky began to weep, thunder crying out as Leo yanked and pulled.

This wasn't happening.

The men started to pull him with them. Their faces obscured with shadows as he looked from one to the other, heels digging into the cold ground, small rocks biting and cutting into him.

They couldn't be here.

Leo squeezed his eyes shut as he struggled fruitlessly. When he opened his eyes there was a building up ahead, squatted in height. A panic filled him causing him to thrash his weight around, the rain drops thick like heavy tears slicking the ground. Before he knew it he was screaming out for help, his breath puffing out in small white clouds. They were getting closer to the building that was dark as night.

"No!" He tried even harder to get away. He didn't want to go there, not there, "I don't want to! Let me go! HELP!" he cried out once more.

One of the men slipped giving Leo the chance to throw all of them off balance. He scrambled to his hands and knees, crawling forward trying to push himself up onto his feet but the ground was getting too muddy to quick. He couldn't get a hold good enough to get up.

Hands grabbed his ankles, he kicked hard as he could trying to shake his attackers off. His fingers dug thick grooves in the ground as he was pulled violently back.

"NO! Get off me!"

He kicked once more, his foot coming into contact with something hard, one hand began to loosen. He took that opportunity and yanked his foot away colliding his heel against another hardness that released his other. This time he was able to pull himself up to his feet and he began to run. Legs pumping, lungs burning from the cold, as he made a bee-line to the house.

It didn't occur to him what he would do once he got there since some entity was keeping him out. But it was all he had to go off of right now, it was his only escape from the men after him.

He was getting closer, he was almost close enough for his brother's to hear his voice if he shouted loud enough. But luck was not on his side. Those same hands as before grabbed him, yanking him back. He shouted and thrashed once more, trying to get out of the hold that felt like stone. Looking over his shoulder he found himself being taken closer to the building that should not be existing.

Close, they were getting too close.

He could see the front door now and the figure waiting on the other side of it, waiting expectantly. A thick voice traveling on that hollow wind;

"I don't want to die."

Horror -Leo decided- was the unexplained...

To Be Continued...


	23. Chapter 23

W is for Willard hit by a car.

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This ain't right. Where's Leo?" Raph growled, hand pressed up against the chilled glass of the window obscured by rain.

Leo was taking to long, They had tried opening the front door and it wouldn't budge, they tried windows but that too served as a prison wall. He had tried breaking the glass but he couldn't it was as if it was bullet proof or something was keeping it reinforced. It left them to wait while one of them held their only defense. Whatever was happening they knew that fighting back was limited, and right now only Jack was their trump card. No, he was their only weapon.

This was ridiculous. All the ninja training skills in the world, all of their hard work to train their bodies only to be reduced to the equivalent of helpless maidens like in some sort of story book.

"What was that?" Mikey's voice was a whisper as he backed up into Raphael.

"What was what?"

"Shh, listen."

The three quieted to the point that you could hear a dead man's breath -waiting for the sounds of what Michelangelo heard to come up once more. A thump, like something hitting the floor, then rolling. Staring up at the ceiling they trailed the sound as if they could see the object making it. It ran from one room to the next up above, heedless of walls, halting above their heads.

The youngest gulped, his startled hands seeking out to grip one of his brothers. He got a hold of Donnie and pulled close whispering out as if the thing above could hear them, "Do-Do you think we should go look?"

"Honestly... no," was whispered back as Donatello held just as tightly to his brother.

Silence, it stretched on for what seemed like hours. Before there were small thuds like a child running upstairs, back and fourth, this was aware of walls. It ran from one room into the hallway upstairs and to the next room as if searching, or perhaps trying to get away.

"Don't run from me!!" the voice boomed with a hard thump that shook the light of the kitchen.

Donatello and Michelangelo jumped, gasping in unison, even Raphael backed up closer to them. The ceiling began to vibrate with every step that was taken above them. A child's voice echoing in on itself- absolutely petrified, "Mommy, mommy, mommy!"

Then, just as suddenly as it all started it stopped. Nothing was there as they waited for it to start once more, the only sound was the ticking of the kitchen clock. Minutes seemed like hours before one of them decided to move.

"I'm gonna go take a look."

"Are you loco?!" orange grabbed red, "You're not going."

"I'm just going to the bottom of the steps, you can see me from the hallway."

"Raph, no, we should all stay here."

"Yeah listen to Donnie. Remember he's the smart one and you're the rash one that doesn't think anything through."

Raphael grunted, "I'm only goin' to the bottom of the steps, I'll be right back. I just want to make sure whatever that was is over."

Pulling free from a vice like grip, he limped his way out of the kitchen. Brown eyes turned to blue, the two more sensitive turtles following but not willing to let go of each other. They followed him to the door way where they stayed watching their more venturous brother make his way down the hall. He finally stopped at the end of the stairs, looking up, the hallway light flickering in the storm.

Raphael was too far away for Michelangelo's taste, "Raphie, come back."

"It's okay, Mikey," he waved a hand dismissively. "There's nothin' up there." He took a step up.

"Raph!" Donatello reached out, then hissed out, "Get back here this instant or so help me-"

"Mommy, mommy, mommy, NO!"

The tiny child's voice was running on its own, down the stairs. A sudden wind rushed past Raphael, his hands shooting out to take hold of the railing. His eyes were wide as his breath was stolen from him. Shoulders trembled as he coughed trying to get air back into his lungs.

"What happened?" Two brothers were to startled to move, forcing themselves to push forward together.

"I-" Raph's breathing was ragged, "She ran... the kid, she ran through me."

"Mommy, no!" The voice raced past Donatello and Michelangelo, a strange wind that was nor hot nor cold washed over their legs as they jumped to the side and up against the wall. Michelangelo gave a scream, hand to his chest trying to clam himself.

He forced out a laugh, "Well that's different."

"Very," his olive sibling whispered.

As they turned back, the house was filled with a resounding boom, the sharp sound of a gun discharge. Raphael's body falling back, eyes open as he crumpled to the ground.

"RAPH!"

Something dark reached down, taking hold of the limp turtle's legs, pulling him up the stairs.

"Oh hell no!" Michelangelo lunged forward, racing to get to the turtle he loved.

By the time he got to the stairs, Donatello had joined his side in his quick pace. What they saw was possibly the most disturbing thing that would ever be scared upon their minds.

The shadow was thin and stretched, shifting to fat and squat all the while that face of crescent eyes and cut mouth was turned to them. It was coming out of the display case, grabbing at Raphael who's eyes were blank and staring. The mouth opened, a tiny laugh trickling out.

"No!" Orange darted up, hand reaching for Raph's.

Another giggle as it quickly jerked the turtle into the display case with in the moment it would take a candle to flicker. Two remaining brothers rushed forward, glass door swinging open only to show shelves and dolls.

To Be Continued...


	24. Chapter 24

X is for Xavior who sunk in the tar.

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If asked how to describe what he felt at that very moment would have been a complicated question to answer. As he moaned, opening his eyes to the darkness that swallowed even shadows, he felt his muscles pull and twist. Everything hurt, he could have sworn that even his bandana was aching from the intense shot of pain that bled through his body when he moved to push himself up onto his hands and knees. His mind was fogged, throbbing in discomfort with every beat of his heart.

Pushing himself back onto his shell, he felt soft dirt under and around him, a few clots crumbling down over his shoulder as he leaned against the earthen wall. He didn't know where he was, there was only a slightly-less dark patch above his head. Leaning his head back against the dirt, he gritted his teeth trying to pull his leg out from underneath him. If it was not for the fact that he had grown up in the dark tunnels of the sewers, he would have had a hard time seeing. As it stood, he could make out faint shapes; roots, his own hands and feet and even a crumpled mass in the opposing corner to him.

Taking in a few quick sips of breath, he pushed himself forward back onto his hands and knees. The cry of pain coming out a groan as he pulled himself across the ground, a sick popping sound telling him that his knees were dislocated and the numbing throb in his thigh telling him that he had either broken something or had received a hair-line fracture. He tried not to lean his weight on the broken limb as he made his way over.

A profane curse rolled off his tongue as hot agony forced the bile in his belly to churn and push up into his throat. The last time he had been in this much pain was when Shredder had nearly taken the life of him and his family. The recovery from that was long and hard but eventually they were all able to stand and witness the trial that resulted in the evil Utrom's banishment.

He pulled in a deep breath trying to over come the pain, and reached, fingers grasping dirt and fabric. A low moan.

He knew that voice, "Raph?"

The shadow moved, fowl language half-heartedly muttered as the larger turtle forced open an eye.

"Raph," his voice bounced with relief to see one of his brothers. But then sank. If Raph was here, then where was Don? More importantly, where was Mikey? Whatever was happening was because of him, because the entity with the grinning mouth and hissing eyes wanted their little brother.

They were by themselves now. No strong shoulder to lean on, no one to protect them. Leo felt a tremor consume him drowning out the anguish his abused body took.

They were by themselves, it repeated once more in his mind."

"Leo?" the emerald ninja tried to push his hands under him. He lifted himself up a few inches before a cry of pain ripping through his throat as he collapsed back down.

"Don't move."

Leonardo moved slowly, pulling himself up beside his brother, his hands seeking out familiar skin. Once he found the warmth of his brother, he gently ran his hands down fingers to wrist, down and up arms over shoulders, neck, and sides. He let his fingers skim over, taking in the bumps and scratches. Other than, Raph's arm and his now broken ankle, he was fine. But if his own aching body was any indicator, his sibling was not far from the same torture.

He helped his brother sit up, both sweating from the exertion that was taken to do such a simple task.

"Shit," Raph's hand gripped his injured arm. He could feel several of the stitches pulled, dirt and frayed bandages matted into the wounds that burned with an angry flame. Sipping air, he took in their surroundings, gathering just as much information as his brother. It would seem they were in some sort of pit in the ground, the only way out was up. He would give himself a few more minutes before attempting to stand on his remaining good leg.

"Raph, how did you get down here?" Leo's voice was sharp due to a particularly painful hum of discomfort resonated from his leg.

"I was hopin' you'd be able to tell me that."

"Great."

Nothing else needed to be said upon that particular subject, the ending note telling the younger that the eldest was at a loss of what had happened himself.

Red eyes squeezed shut, "Damn, why does everythin' hurt so bad?"

"What was the last thing you remember?"

"Bein' on the stairs," he decided to skip the unnerving experience of having someone else's spirit race through you in a state of panic. "It felt like I got a bullet to the brain."

"What?"

"There were weird sounds, I wanted to check it out. I think I got hit by the memory of somethin'. Dyin' ain't a picnic. You?"

"You know that dream you and Mike had before all this? I kind of lived it."

Raph shifted, grunting as he did, "What happened?"

"I saw the men, was grabbed and stuffed into some building," he offered his brother a look even though it was too dark to hold each other's gazes. "I think you're right, dying's not easy."

"Okay," the largest rested back against the wall of earth. "Then what are we doin' alive and in way to much pain?"

"What you said before, 'hit by the memory of something'. It's the only explanation we've got. Things are getting worse the longer we stay here, and now things have become physical, for what reason, I don't know yet." He lurched forward, trying to quell the need to throw up and pass out.

Raphael forced his vision from blurring as he grabbed at the wall, getting a hold of a large rock, he began to pull himself up, "Physical, huh? Then that means we can start-" he shook his head trying to ward off the need to fall back down. "-start fightin' back."

To Be Continued...


	25. Chapter 25

Y is for Yissy who fell from a plane.

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"Hold on Leo," Raph pulled himself up another few inches as Leonardo held onto his shell. As if his broken ankle wasn't bad enough, he had to get them out of the pit they were in. Climbing with only three limbs with twice one's weight proved to be a very difficult task.

The leader gave his brother a small squeeze, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" He grunted while finding new holds for his hands.

"I couldn't protect you and Mikey," tawny eyes began to water. "I'm a failer."

"Oh god, don't get into this right now," he braced himself, pulling himself up a few more inches before supporting his weight on his foot so that he could seek out more solid earth to use to continue their assent.

"I just wanted you to know..."

His brother's voice trailing off telling he was ashamed of himself, depressed that he couldn't have kept his precious little brother safe from harm. Raphael growled in the back of his throat. Damn it, he had to now say something that would be along the lines of an apology for hurting Leo's feelings and some how assure him that no matter what he did he would have had no control over what was happening. Everything here on this damn property was just a twisted, sick, piece of reality that they would have sooner or later have come across due to their massively unfortunate ability of being left alone and ignorant. God did Raph wish that he could say, "Nothing like that had ever happened to me." Or "I don't know anyone that's happened to." Because honestly these kind of experiences were worth not having.

"Okay," he began, trying to blink past the dirt dusting down over his mask. "First off, I can't even protect Mikey and..."

"It's okay, I know."

"What?"

"Mikey... he loves you."

The way he emphasized "love" telling clearly what he had meant. Raphael sipped in a sharp breath heaving them up again, Leonardo's bad thigh pulsating from pain when the younger slipped, fingers digging in, toes clawing. He closed his eyes tightly when they were stilled. When he pried one eye open to look around he found that they hand only slid down about half a foot. His heart jumped when he saw his brother biting down on his own arm, his body quivering as salty tears slid down.

"Raph? Raph, you okay?" he could smell the fresh sent of blood as it welled up around the bite. That was when he noticed the once lax leg was tight, Raphael had caught their decent by using his broken ankle to help support.

Hurt filled his heart, he was causing his brother pain because of his injuries, because he was becoming a burden once more. Leo reached out a hand intending to climb himself, but he was not able to when Raphael started to move once more.

"Raph! No, you can't do this. You have to-"

"Shut up Leo!" the younger snapped. "We're less than four feet away and I'm gonna get us the...re..."

"Raph?"

No answer, only a distracted look up.

Turning his gaze up, pumpkin orange eyes in downward crescents gazing down towards them, the color making the eyes look like they were glowing with in the head of the large silhouette that sat at the edge of the hole like a hunched over animal. The sounds of crunching and chewing as the eyes bobbed as if the creature was eating. Suddenly a mouth opened up, teeth too small for any head pulling into a curled smile. Something wet slipping down the fangs, falling down the hole and past them, landing on the bottom with a sickly slopping sound.

-----------------------------------------

Stopping the van was hard to do with out flipping it, but Casey managed. Seat belts had been removed with in seconds, friends and family diving out of the vehicle.

Lights flickered in the house that gave a long groan as wood shifted and split. Small shadows darting in all directions of the field, each and everyone giving a mischievous laugh. Objects torn from the house swirling around slowly as if caught in a sluggish whirl-wind as the house it self was being ripped at.

"What the hell is goin' on?!" Casey's mouth gaped open as one of the shadows darted between his legs, catching a glint of light of tiny white eyes.

"Does it matter?!" April was trying hard not to freeze up, and considering that a window shutter had just floated past her clattering open and close, she was doing fairly well.

"My... My sons!"

Splinter began to run towards the center of the destruction that was unfurling.

-----------------------------------

The only thing that run in his ears was the screaming. Michelangelo, himself, was shouting and screaming trying to claw forward, trying to get closer to his brother who was holding onto the doorframe. Hands as white as fish bellies gripped at olive skin, yanking and pulling. A hand slicked with slime of decay squeezed harder, a nail breaking off in an odd angle as it tried to loose Donatello's white knuckled grip.

Donatello was on the floor, leg bent funny as he tried to use the wall for leverage form the hands reaching out from the darkness. He had one hand reaching out, trying to grab Michelangelo. The youngest pinned to the floor as the being with a mask of candle light eyes and tiny teeth dug his talon like hands into thighs. Laughter ranging from old to young over lapping each other into a white noise as those teeth bit down on scutes and attempted to pull shell from flesh.

Every time Mikey tried to kick his feet found nothing, only the feeling of icey pond water. He had tried lashing out his hands, tried to grab his chucks only to be thrown from side to side. The gaping maw returning to bite at him before he could pull himself from the daze of hitting into a wall.

He was stuck, there was nothing he could do except for reach, reach for the hand trying to grasp his own as tears of fear prickled at his eyes.

To Be Continued…


	26. Chapter 26

**Special thanks to Anticia who helped me out greatly with this story. Jack is a special character dedicated to her.**

Sorry, I found really dumb mistake and fixed it.

Z is for Zack who simply went insane.

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Donatello's grip gave, his toes the last thing Michelangelo saw of him as he was swallowed into the shadows with an echoing call of his name. He cursed as he tried to move, one of those talon-ed hands coming down on his shoulder pinning him to the floor, crushing his chest against the carpet. That evil face bending into his view.

"Good child full of drink. I wish to play," the voice taunted at him.

"You sick bastard!" Orange struggled only to have the hold on his shoulder screw down tearing deeper into muscles, he gritted his teeth not willing to give this creature another scream that it seemed to extract joy from. Instead he growled out, "What the hell is 'drink' anyway?!"

"The sun on your back," it hissed gleefully.

"My shell? But my shell isn't something you drink you moron!"

The smile faded, the voice changing pitch to a low grumble, "Drink helps with the pain, drink puts the other to sleep."

Michelangelo gave a frustrated shout as he tried to move once more, "You're a fucked up demon!" He was so angry, so scared, he wanted his family back, he wanted them there safe and sound. He didn't want to be here talking to something that had no sanity not to mention even a truly physical body. Then again, was this thing ever alive to begin with?

A hiss.

He knew that hiss!

A tiny black paw with sharp pink claws swiped at the creature, Jack's back arched what little fur left on his little shaved body standing on end. If it was any other situation it would have been funny, as it stood Mikey was just stunned watching the entity shift, stinging in his muscles where talons retracted. The shadow shifted, sweeping to the side as Jack moved around to place himself between his owner and the being.

The beast dipped low, a rumbling coming from it like a growl as it tried to stare off the feline that had ears back and fangs bared. The stand off short lived as Jack sprung forward, swiping, and hissing madly causing the face to turn and hurry away. The cat gave chase, running after it into the room Donatello had been swallowed by.

The sea-green turtle staggered to his feet, following suit. There was a cry, cut off gargled as sloppy eating filled the air.

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Splinter didn't know what had happened, nor did he care when all of the activity outside stopped. The window he had been pounding on with his walking stick finally gave way, breaking into silvery shards that trickled to the floor. He ran in, finding an unconscious Michelangelo inside, Jack cleaning a thick slime from his paw while sitting on his owner's chest.

They searched the house and found no one else. Casey and April had combed the forest while Splinter waited with his son, mending ugly wounds while he slept. The humans had found three turtles in the forest, all asleep and together.

-----------------------

some time later

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Donatello frowned as Jack ran over the corner and stuffed something in his mouth, Klunk trotting up to look and see what was so delicious. He winced when he tried to move his shoulder a wrong way, the stitches in him straining in protest from being moved in a way that they did not agree with. He went back to his book, reading some more before looking back at Jack who was now rolling onto his back, front paws wrapped around Klunk who kicked at him in play fighting. The two were like two of a kind, they were inseparable, and that was perfectly fine with him. Jack's loving nature was something he was getting to like, but that wasn't what was disturbing him about the feline.

"Hey Don," Mikey sat down next to his brother on the couch. "What'cha readin'?"

"A book about witchcraft and folklore."

"Still trying to identify what was going on back at that house?"

A nod.

"Anything yet?" The two looked over their shoulders as Raph and Leo came in together; red leaning against a cane, his ankle in a booted splint, the leader in crutches. Blue came up directly behind Donnie after he asked his initial question.

"Um, yeah, but..." He looked over to Mikey who shared a soft kiss with Raphael, moving over so his -now- boyfriend could sit with him. A purple clad brow raised, "I'll never get used to that."

"Then look the other way," the youngest grinned while leaning against the strong turtle who wrapped his arm around Mikey's shoulders.

Donatello shook his head trying not to smile. The relationship was odd for him, but he wasn't going to oppose to it, not unless he had a reason to and at the moment he had none.

Leo nudged his younger sibling, "Don," he used the name as a gentle reminder of the subject at hand.

"Oh, uh," Donatello looked at the book. "Okay, the cult that apparently the original settle of the land was in had this really weird idea of twin beings as powerful as angels and demons. One was cruel, the other benevolent. It's mentioned that "the man of the sun" could put "to sleep" the cruel one and "the man of the moon" could do the same for the good. When one slept then the other could reign. It's said that if one of the twins "drank" the man that was to put them "to sleep" then they could stay awake and over throw the other."

"Drank?" Raphael's grip visibly tightened around the ninja leaning against him.

"That's all it says, "drank." I have no idea what that means."

Michelangelo tried to peer over the edge of the book, "So what does that have to do with me?"

"Apparently you are the equivalent of "the man of the sun" because of the pattern of your shell, it's the same as what the fabled man would have as a birth mark. Now that I think back, I think that's why you were having such a hard time before we went there, because you were sensing something and basically having premonition after premonition until your senses were on overload."

Leonardo reached down and flipped through some of the pages before his eyes caught something. He frowned and read out loud, "The Twins were said to have no shape beyond a silhouette of a beast that had no eyes and no sound besides its footsteps. The Twins in the folktales feast on spirits, if seen in the physical, they will be in the typical form of a witch's familiar; rat, bat, wolf, snake, spider, or cat." He looked down at the turtle he was leaning over, "You don't think that Jack's one of those twins do you?"

"I never said anything."

"But you were thinking it."

"Who wouldn't, with him pouncing on things that aren't there."

"He could just have little kitty brain damage," Raph offered as he watched the cat they were talking about jump at Klunk only to miss and hit into the wall.

"You guys are mean, and paranoid, Jack's my hero. You should be nicer to him," a sea-green lip was thrust out in a pout.

Leo laughed softly, "We know Mike. Okay, enough sitting around and pointing fingers at Michelangelo's hero." He pushed himself up right and began to make his way out of the living room, "It's time for bed."

Donatello sighed marking where he was and put down the book. He said his goodnights and left as well. Raphael and Michelangelo remained on the couch for a bit longer not talking just, enjoy each other's presents. Eventually orange doused off, slumbering peacefully as red pressed a kiss to his temple before drifting off himself.

The room filled with a purr, as Jack jumped on something that was crawling towards the couch. His mouth splitting open to the back of his head as he feasted upon the spirit that squeaked out in surprise, the sound juicy and thick.

When he swallowed he looked to the two turtles asleep against each other, his teeth and mouth twisting up in a curled smile, eyes turning to downward crescents. He turned to Klunk who was sitting peacefully next to him. In a tiny voice as if sharing a secret, Jack spoke to his new friend, "I like this family."

End

**Thank you for reading.**


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